


Dancing With Fire

by BlitzTheDragon



Category: Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blitzo being Blitzo (Helluva Boss), Blitzo is Bad at Feelings (Helluva Boss), Bottom Stolas (Helluva Boss), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gay, Gay Sex, Humor, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rivalry, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stolas is Bad at Feelings (Helluva Boss), War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29528391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlitzTheDragon/pseuds/BlitzTheDragon
Summary: The Immediate Murder Professionals experience a great windfall when they attract the interest of a well-established Overlord. There is only one problem: said Overlord just so happens to be the arch nemesis of their main benefactor, Prince Stolas. To complicate matters further, the relationship between Blitzø and his new "investor" is quickly becoming more than one of business.Passionate romance, a tense love triangle, and steamy gay demon sex are the inevitable outcome when Blitzø's ambitions (and desires) land him and his company on the unforgiving chessboard that is Hell's politics.A huge thank you and shoutout to my good friend illumelrion, who has been helping me write this every step of the way.
Relationships: Blitzo (Helluva Boss)/Original Character(s), Blitzo (Helluva Boss)/Original Male Character(s), Blitzo/Stolas Goetia, Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss)
Comments: 88
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Helluva Boss x Reader Oneshots, Vol. 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392083) by [LM_Studios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LM_Studios/pseuds/LM_Studios). 



“Mr. Harper.”

Harper grumbled and shifted in his sleep.

“Mr. Harper. It’s time to wake up.”

The Overlord in question grumbled again. This time, one burning yellow eye shot open to regard the well-groomed imp standing by his bedside. After a moment’s silence, he huffed in defeat and shuffled his way upright.

“Thank you, Drek,” he grunted in his valet’s general direction, though he wasn’t feeling particularly grateful. “Hope you’ve got extra coffee ready, because I did _not_ sleep well last night.”

“Of course, sir,” Drek said with a curt nod. “Your clothes are laid out and freshly pressed as well.” He paused, then cocked his head. “Forgive me if I am prying, but where are the two women you took to your bed? Neither I nor any of the staff have seen them this morning.”

“I sent them home last night,” Harper said as he got out of bed. He groaned and cracked his back. Towering overhead eight and a half feet, the red-scaled, draconic demon was every bit as imposing in his sleeping shorts as he was in one of his custom-tailored suits. His leathery wings flexed behind him a few times before he continued. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out, and I think I’m done with ‘hooking up,’ as the kids call it.”

The imp nodded again in understanding, then took his leave to finish preparing breakfast. Harper stretched and twisted a few more times to get the lead out, then set about getting dressed. As he buttoned his shirt and knotted his tie, his gaze wandered around the old-fashioned elegance of his bedroom, as well as the double-king bed occupying one wall.

Harper frowned. Though life in Hell had surprisingly enough been good to him, it was unsurprisingly filled with some rather awful people. Being obscenely rich could be a liability in that crowd. He shook his head with a sigh as he thought back to the night before. “Should probably ask the butler to take inventory of the silverware,” he mused.

Once he was dressed and a fresh coat of gel slicked his black hair neatly between his horns, the dragon demon made his way downstairs to the dining room. As always, a family-sized spread of bacon, eggs, ham, toast, and hashbrowns awaited him. A big body meant a big appetite!

Harper had just sat down when Drek emerged from the kitchens baring a fresh pot of coffee. No sooner had the imp set it down than Harper had snatched it up to take a big, unflinching gulp directly from it. Household staff had learned long ago that the Overlord did not take his coffee in a mug, nor did he drink just one pot. No doubt another was brewing in the kitchen.

The Overlord listened intently as his valet took out his PDA and began reviewing Harper’s schedule for the day. With deadlines approaching for the project in Dis, it was going to be a busy day. Speaking of which… “Have we heard back yet about the revision to the zoning permits?”

“Balthor informed me that the necessary paperwork is in the mail, sir.”

The dragon huffed in irritation. “Well it better reach the city clerk by tomorrow or it’s going to be Balthor’s head on my desk.”

“I was sure to remind him,” Drek affirmed before scrolling to the next item. Knowing his employer, Harper wasn’t speaking metaphorically. “Oh, and Max started his vacation yesterday, so you will need to organize your personal records yourself.”

“Bah!” growled Harper, “I knew I was forgetting something. No matter; Max earned his time off. I suppose I should take care of those now before I do anything else.” 

Harper took a few more minutes to finish his breakfast, and for Drek to conclude the daily briefing. The interview with that creepy exoskeleton Katie Killjoy was going to be his least favorite activity, but he would cross that bridge when he reached it.

The Overlord took a moment to drain the first pot of coffee, then patted down his lips with the napkin spread across his lap. Once Drek had brought him the second pot, he rose from his seat and made his way back upstairs to his office, coffee in hand.

Like many of the other rooms in the house, Harper’s office had undergone many renovations. While the overall Victorian aesthetic from when it was first built remained intact, many upgrades and creature comforts had been added over the past 120 or so years. Chief among them was the sleek Voxbook sitting front and center on his mahogany desk, as well as the large flatscreen television that had replaced the mantle over the fireplace.

It was the television that he switched on first. It always helped him to have some background noise while he worked, and though he found Channel 666 News insufferable, the business segment was useful for picking up leads.

Coffee pot in hand, Harper settled into his chair and opened his Voxbook. For the next hour, he meticulously pored over spreadsheets and scanned documents. To think that these were only his personal finances, which were dwarfed by those of his business empire!

The dragon demon finally scooted back from his desk to rub his eyes. He’d never understand why someone would want to pursue a career in handling this sort of thing. It was during this break that he became aware of what the voices on TV were actually saying.

“Hi there! I’m Blitzø (the ‘o’ is silent), and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!”

The cheerful, vaguely effeminate voice made Harper look up at the TV, to the slender, mottled imp taking up the screen beside a company logo.

“Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?” Blitzø continued, “Or are you an innocent soul who got **_FUCKED_ ** over by someone else?”

As Harper watched, Drek came into the office carrying a third pot of coffee. “I’ve brought your-” the imp glanced up at the TV and scoffed, “Oh, not this garbage again.” He set down the coffee on Harper’s desk and reached for the remote, but the Overlord waved him off.

“Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the Living World,” Blitzø said as he waved his hand over a book and a flaming portal opened in the floor behind him, “we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!” As the imp fell backward into the portal, the commercial cut to an upbeat jingle.

“Most remarkable,” Harper said, “A company that appears to be owned and operated by imps, but one that possesses access to the Living World?”

“Apparently so,” said Drek, who turned off the TV, “No idea how they got their hands on that fancy book, but even if their service is legitimate, they’re nothing but trouble.”

The Overlord tilted his head toward his valet, “Surely you don’t think so lowly of your own kind?”

Drek chuckled softly. “It isn’t that they are imps, per se,” he said, “But even if they do have access to the Living World, how do you think them killing people left and right to avenge Hell’s citizenry will go over? You know how difficult it is to get into Heaven, sir. This will only make Hell’s population crisis worse.”

Harper leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “Oh Drek. Dear, dear Drek. You have been my valet for what, 24 years?”

“27, Mr. Harper,”

“Close enough. You should know by now that the population crisis isn’t getting worse. No, it is getting better. And if these ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’ hasten more Sinners’ arrival in Hell, things will get better still!”

The draconic demon slowly got up, and wandered over to the broad window overlooking his spacious grounds. “Tell me, Drek, as the population of Hell increases, where will they live?”

Drek shuffled to his master’s side, dawning realization on his face. “In apartments, sir. Houses if they’re lucky.”

Harper sagely nodded. “And who builds homes for the citizens of Hell?”

“You do, sir!”

“Clever boy!” Harper exclaimed, before gently slapping his valet on the back. “Where others see crisis, I see opportunity. Demand for housing can only go up. And my subsidiaries will prosper so long as the population continues to grow.”

The Overlord moved back to his desk. He had hastily scrawled I.M.P.’s phone number and address on a scrap of paper. “Drek, reschedule my afternoon appointments. I am interested in making contact with this humble band of assassins. Let us see what they can do.”

With that, Harper pulled his smartphone from his pocket and began to dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody and welcome to the first chapter of my very first Helluva Boss fanfiction. This story was directly inspired by Chapter 7 of "Helluva Boss x Reader Oneshots, Vol. 2" by LM_Studios. This reimagination of the concept has been written with the blessing of the original author, and I strongly encourage readers to check our their work.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my story. While I cannot guarantee new chapters will come quick, I will do my level best to see this story through to its conclusion.


	2. Chapter 2

_*Arf arf arf arf arf arf arf!*_

Loona rolled her eyes as the doggie phone at her desk sprang to life. Reluctantly, she put down her smartphone and picked up the receiver. “Hello, I.M.P. This is Loona speaking,” she droned.

“Ah yes, good morning, Miss Loona. Would you be so kind as to patch me through to your manager, Blitzø? I have a job for your company,” rumbled the rich, deep voice on the other end.

Loona pulled the receiver away just far enough to let out an annoyed huff before responding with the same bored monotone. “Blitzø is not available over the phone, but I would be happy to take down the details of your target. We will call you back to arrange an in-person appointment.”

“It is very kind of you to offer to take a message, Miss Loona, but I am afraid that this is a pressing matter. I am Lord Harper, and I wish to speak to the proprietor of I.M.P. to arrange a contract.”

The Hellhound’s eyes widened, then narrowed. A smirk twisted across her muzzle. “Lord Harper, huh? Yeah I heard of you. The big bad construction baron who built the Imp City skyline? Yeah, nice try dipshit. Blitzø gets enough prank calls on his cell phone without me letting every fuckhead pretending to be an Overlord through to bother him.”

There was a pause on the other line, before the caller continued. “I assure you, Miss Loona, this is no practical joke. If I may speak with Mr. Blitzø, I would be most-”

“Yeah no, how about you come down here and eat my ass? Cut the bullshit, get on your knees, and choke on my entire ass!” she said, a snarl creeping into her voice.

“Miss Loona, plea-” the Hellhound hung up before he could continue.

Harper stared incredulously at his phone. It had been well over a century since a demon had spoken to him like that, and he was struggling to process the brazenness of the woman’s dismissal.

His webbed earfins perked up at the sound of snickering. “What’s so funny?” he growled at Drek, who was struggling to contain his laughter.

“Forgive me, sir,” said the imp after regaining his composure, “Even I was unprepared for you of all demons to receive such a rude response. It makes for a wonderful first impression of the company, does it not?”

Harper frowned. “Indeed it does,” he grunted, “Few talk to me like that and live to see the day after.”

“I suggest we forget this I.M.P. folly, sir. As novel as the service they claim to offer is, it is a waste of time.”

“Nonsense, Drek,” said Harper, that playful smile returning, “You’ve already cleared my afternoon for today, and I am certain that the unpleasantness with the receptionist was a simple misunderstanding. Have the limo ready after lunch. We are going to pay them a visit in person.” The smile slowly faded and hardened, “Whether they are expecting me or not.”

* * *

Later that day, at I.M.P. Headquarters, the owner was having a less than stellar day. He paced back and forth in his office, tail swishing irritably as he resisted the urge to chuck his phone out the window.

“Stolas, I swear to the God that has forsaken us,” he growled through gritted teeth, “I. Am. Too. Busy. For. This. **_Bullshit_ **.”

“Oh Blitzy~” cooed the owl demon on the other end, “I just love how tough you act when you’re angry. Mmmm, keep talking tough to me.”

“Can it, bitch!” snapped Blitzø, “We got a deal. I come to your place and fuck your birdbrains out once a month, and once a month only. I don’t care how fucking horny you are; I am _not_ gonna drop everything several times a week just so you can have phone sex.”

“Ahhhhh~” the absolutely pornographic moan Stolas let out sent a shiver down the imp’s spine, “Yes, I am such a naughty demon. Teach me a lesson for interrupting your busy work. Mmmmh, tell me all the things you’re going to do to me.”

“Fucking Christ on a cracker,” Blitzø grumbled, “Look I gotta go, so unless there’s anything really important you want to discuss that does _not_ involve my dick, ass, or any other part of me, I’m gonna hang up.”

“Oh! Before you do,” cooed Stolas, “Be sure to check Voxtagram later. I DMed you a little something.”

“Is it another closeup picture of your butthole?”

“Maybe~”

“Ugh, whatever. See you when the moon’s full.” Blitzø ended the call. He breathed a sigh of relief that Stolas hadn’t started on one of his graphic tirades. Otherwise he definitely would have chucked his phone out the window, and then he’d have to dip into company funds _again_ to replace it.

Blitzø took a moment to adjust his long, tattered coat before striding out of his office and towards the conference room. Husband and wife duo Millie and Moxxie were already waiting for him.

“Sorry that took so long, folks,” he said, “Got tied up on a call.”

“Stolas?” Millie asked sympathetically.

“Stolas,” Blitzø confirmed. “Thirsty bastard is really pushing it. He always gets like this when the full moon is coming up.” He took a seat at the head of the table and shuffled the papers stacked on it. Most were blank, though a few of them had crude stick drawings resembling Blitzø on a horse, and others resembling all three imps together.

“Alright!” Blitzø said as Loona sauntered in, “Now that everyone’s here, we can get down to business. So, ah, revenue’s picked up a little. We got a few new clients, and that Spring Break Sale got us enough money to run our commercial on more channels. Though we _would_ have more business had _somebody_ not insisted we run it on Channel 666. Seriously, what kind of nerd watches that shit?”

Moxxie stood up, his white hair bristling in indignation. “For your information, sir,” he said icily, “Channel 666 is _the_ largest network in Hell. As lackluster as your commercial is, I bought the ad space on the channel most people watch.”

“Well if you’d have just listened to me even more people would have seen it!” Blitzø fired back.

A grinding sound filled the air. It appeared to be Moxxie’s teeth. “Sir, for the last time. NOBODY watches the Your Pretty Horsie Marathon channel! It’s just a non-stop loop of badly-drawn toy commercials disguised as cartoons.”

“Well I do, and I think Your Pretty Horsie is a timeless work of art.”

“YOU DON’T COUNT!!!”

Loona glanced up from her phone at Millie. “And they’re off,” she quipped. Millie rolled her eyes and nodded. She scooted closer to Moxxie and put a hand on his shoulder, but he was already on a roll, and Blitzø was only stirring the pot.

“Did you even look at the channel ratings, sir???”

“I don’t need to,” Blitzø crowed, “Folks in Hell aren’t all uncultured bottomfeeders like you, Mr. Fake News.”

Moxxie’s face flushed, and his tiny body quivered. “Uncultured?! You...I...but…” The little imp’s face flushed, and his eyes bulged. A prominent vein throbbed in his forehead.

Before Moxxie could explode, Loona set her phone down and came to the rescue. “Heyyyy, so I got this hilarious prank call before the meeting.” That got Blitzø and Moxxie’s attention away from each other. The Hellhound continued, “Some loser called pretending to be Harper. Acted like he had this big job for us and it was really important he talk to Blitzø.”

There was a long silence, suddenly broken by uproarious laughter from all four demons. It took several seconds for them to settle down. More importantly, it had interrupted a potential brawl.

“Ho-holy shi-hit!” Blitzø said between gasps. “That’s the best one yet. The Builder Baron himself wants to hire three imps and a Hellhound for something? Ohhhh fuck that’s funny.”

“I know right?” Loona said with one last chuckle, “So yeah I told that dickshit to eat my ass.”

“Atta girl, Loonie! That’s how you talk to liars.” Blitzø left his seat and spread his arms out for a hug. Loona ignored him.

Unfazed, Blitzø continued down the agenda for the meeting. Just as he was dismissing the crew, he stopped Moxxie. “Hey Mox, before you go, I just wanna say I accept your apology.”

Moxxie turned and raised an eyebrow. “You what?”

“Your apology for not being able to appreciate true art. I get it. Really I do. To be fair, you need to have a very high IQ to understand Your Pretty Horsie.”

“W-why you...you-” Moxxie’s brow furrowed. He was stopped mid-retort by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his wife looking at him with a pleading expression.

The imp took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Thank you sir,” he grumbled, “I suppose I just don’t understand it the way you do.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Blitzø chirped. He then reached into his coat and pulled out a small, brightly-colored plastic pony. He set it on the table in front of Moxxie and pointed to it. “Now kiss Q-Tip and make up.”

“YOU DEMENTED SON OF A-”

* * *

“-bitch,” said Drek, prompting a glare from Harper.

“Drek, remember what I told you about using that sort of language?” he said.

“Tis tame in comparison to the language she used with you, sir,” Drek coolly responded.

Harper only chuckled, then leaned forward in his seat to pat the knee of the imp sitting across from him. The limo swerved suddenly, nearly sending the dragon sprawling onto the floor.

“Gah! Careful, Bainbridge, you almost made me crush my valet!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry, m’lord,” called the chauffeur from the front of the vehicle. “A jaywalker stepped into the road.”

“That is what the cowcatcher is for,” grumbled Harper as he got back into his seat. “Now where was I? Ah yes,” he gestured to Drek. “It pleases me you are so quick to defend my honor, and it is one of my favorite things about you. However, I do not believe your ire will be necessary for long. As soon as I arrive at their office, they will see that it was all a silly misunderstanding.”

Drek settled back, having been knocked off balance himself. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Harper,” he said.

“Hardly,” replied the dragon, “An Overlord must pick battles wisely, and ideally is above bringing wrath down on those who are so low as to escape our gaze. Had a Kingpin or one of my employees spoken to me in this way, that would be a different matter. But in the grand scheme of things, one strange Hellhound not realizing to whom she was speaking is insignificant.”

That playful smile reemerged. “However, that isn’t to say I won’t have a little bit of fun when I pay them a visit.”

Minutes later, Harper’s limo pulled into the parking lot beside the decrepit, horned skyscraper that I.M.P. called home. The draconic Overlord stepped out with his imp in tow. He took a moment to regard the building.

“Not very promising, is it Mr. Harper?” Drek groused.

“Indeed not,” Harper agreed, “I remember this is one of my former competitors’ buildings, before I bought out their office. Definitely needs some extensive renovation. Hmm, might have to look into the current owner, see if they’d be willing to talk.” Even as he spoke, Drek was dutifully entering it into his PDA.

Without further ado, Drek took the lead into the building and up the stairs to the second floor. Harper noted that the interior was every bit as unimpressive as the exterior. Finally, they reached a worn office door with “I.M.P. Headquarters” crudely scrawled across the upper half.

Loona was sitting at the front desk browsing Voxtagram as usual when she heard the door creak open. She glanced up from the computer to see a well-dressed imp. “Welcome to I.M.P., how can I help you today?” she recited unenthusiastically.

“Ah, you must be Loona,” Drek said with a smirk. “It is not me you’ll be helping, but my employer.”

The Hellhound glanced past Drek to see a massive dragon with burnt red scales in a tasteful two-piece suit and overcoat duck under the door frame to squeeze into the waiting room. Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. “No way…” she murmured.

The dragon demon’s face was unreadable as he stepped past Drek and right up to the front desk. Loona’s ears drooped, and she sank out of her seat to hide behind the furniture in a futile gesture.

“Now then,” said Harper, he looked down to his hands as he slowly and deliberately pulled off his dark leather gloves one finger at a time. “What was this about me ‘eating your ass?’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm positively chuffed at the warm reception my first chapter has gotten (pun somewhat intended)! It gave me the drive to get this next chapter out right away. It was getting kind of long, so I had to split it. Apologies for one helluva cliffhanger (pun definitely intended).


	3. Chapter 3

"No," Loona murmured, "Oh no. No no fuck no. Fuck fuck shit!" her voice grew louder as her cursing intensified. She backed away from the desk and curled up in a ball against the wall. Her tail was tucked firmly between her legs.

"Lord Harper, I am so, so sorry!" she whimpered. "I didn't know it was you. I swear to Lucifer I didn't!"

Harper tucked his gloves into the pocket of his overcoat, then loomed over the desk. The stained, aging wood creaked in protest as a fraction of his weight rested upon it. His wings shuffled, then opened just enough to widen the shadow he cast over the frightened Hellhound. Despite the absence of light, the air within Harper's shadow grew hot.

"Tell me, Miss Loona," he rumbled, "Is that the way you normally treat people who call your office? What difference does not knowing who is calling make?"

Loona stammered frantically, but couldn't find the words. A choked sob of fear and regret escaped her as she curled up tighter.

Harper leaned further over the desk. Thin wisps of smoke curled around his fingers as the wood beneath them smoldered. But the dragon's face remained passive, and his voice low and even.

"I want you to promise me something," he said, "From now on, I want you to treat prospective clients with courtesy and basic manner. How you treat your colleagues is an internal matter for your supervisor to handle, but please do not speak to me or any other prospective client in the way you did this morning again. Understand?"

Loona sniffled and hiccuped, then braved lifting her head just enough to nod.

The dragon remained still and silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, his wings closed and his expression brightened. The oppressive heat that had enveloped the Hellhound was suddenly gone.

"Good!" said Harper. He then stepped back and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "Now be a dear and fetch your manager for me, please. I have much to discuss with him."

Before Loona could get off the floor, the door behind the front desk burst wide open. Out stormed Blitzø, who was in the process of fiddling with his belt.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on out here? It's really hard for me to mastur - I mean think, when there's all this fucking commotion." His attention was drawn by Loona sniffling as she got back into her seat at the desk. His eyes grew big and watery.

"Loonie? Baby, what happened?" His face went from alarm to anger. "Did somebody hurt you? Tell me who made you cry, Loonie, I'll rip his balls out through his fucking asshole!" His gaze turned to Drek, who was standing quietly at attention. "Was it you, Skinny? You look like a little bitch, I bet it was you!"

Not looking up, Loona shakily pointed over to Harper, who now stood at the aquarium inspecting Blitzø's pet eels.

"I'm beginning to understand your receptionist's behavior toward me over the phone," Harper said without turning around, "Given the way her role model talks about others."

Blitzø's slitted pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Oh fuck. Loonie, why is Lord Harper here? Did you piss him off? Oh God, oh Sweet Baby Ray's!"

Harper slowly turned around as Blitzø fell to his knees before him and groveled into the threadbare office carpet. "Please, great Overlord. Have mercy on my daughter! Whatever she did, I'll take full responsibility. I'll give you anything, just don't hurt her!!!"

"WHAT in the Seven Circles is going on out...here?" Moxxie stopped at the end of the hallway to see Blitzø prostrate before a colossal dragon demon. Millie poked her head around the corner behind him.

"Oh, crumbs. Uh, good afternoon Lord Harper!" he said, a strained smile on his face and sweat rapidly gathering on his brow. "How can we help you?"

Harper spared Moxxie the briefest of glances before speaking to the imp at his feet. "Mr. Blitzø, please get up off the floor. It's unbecoming of a businessman like yourself to grovel."

"Oh, um, I - WHOA!" Blitzø yelped as the dragon demon's tail coiled around his waist and effortlessly hauled him up onto his feet. It was the one part of Harper that departed from his otherwise draconic appearance. Instead of being scaly and stout, it was bony and segmented, almost like a skeletal rodent's tail.

Harper's tail released the imp, then curled around to dust off his lapels. Blitzø cringed as the tip got too close to his face for comfort. The tail ended in a long, curved, blade-like bone - the flat side of which was now patting against his collarbones and lightly grazing his neck.

"And another thing," continued the Overlord, "I would prefer that you refer to me as 'Mr. Harper,' or 'Sir.' 'Lord Harper' sounds too - what's the word? Unfriendly." His gaze drifted from Blitzø to Loona, to Moxxie and Millie."

"Uh, s-sure Lo - I mean, Mr. Harper," stammered Blitzø. "So, I'm guessing you're here because Loona was rude to you, and I'm awful sorry about that."

The imps recoiled in surprise when Harper chuckled. "Goodness, no. I had every intention of meeting with you regardless," he said, before he walked back to the center of the room. He glanced at the four of them in turn, then shut his eyes.

"If I had only come here because one of you had upset me..." he said as he opened his eyes. Their brilliant amber coloring had taken on the black and orange texture of molten lava. He held up one hand, and flames ignited on each of his talons. The temperature of the room began to climb rapidly, and his voice turned gravelly and several octaves deeper. "...I would have burned this entire building to the ground without saying a word."

Harper shut his hand and his eyes once more, and the room cooled immediately. He blinked, and just like that he was back to normal. "Pardon my bombast. It's not often I get to show off."

Blitzø looked over his shoulder to see Millie, Moxxie, _and_ Loona all peeking cautiously around the corner of the hallway they ducked into. Swallowing hard, the imp pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the beads of sweat running down his face. "Sure, no problem!" he said with a brave face. "So, what can we do ya for?"

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere!" said Harper, as chipper as a man who hadn't just unsubtly threatened the entire room. "I wish to hire I.M.P.'s services. Come, let's go to your office. We can discuss the details there."

Blitzø balked, but only for a moment. On the one hand, this guy was scaring the crap out of him and his team, and had made his little Loonie cry. On the other hand, a freaking **Overlord** wanted to hire them for a hit, and last he checked, Overlords had a shitload of money.

Calculations floated through the imp's head. Half-remembered arithmetic slowly coalesced into equations.

_If Harper = Money, then Harper + IMP = Money + IMP. If Money + IMP = Horse, then Harper + IMP = Horse._

"Right this way, Mr. Harper!" he exclaimed before confidently leading the way to his office. He ushered the massive dragon demon through the much too small door, then followed him inside.

Millie, Moxxie, and Loona all exchanged glances. "20 Souls* says Harper barbecues him alive," said Moxxie.

* * *

Blitzø reclined in his chair, his heels lazily propped on his desk. Best to treat this like any other appointment (just with fewer vulgar remarks). "Okay!" he said, "Who d'ya wanna off today?"

Harper had taken the seat on the opposite side of the desk. He reached into his coat and produced a manila envelope stuffed with documents and photographs.

"I wish to test your organization's capabilities," he rumbled as he turned the folder over to Blitzø for review. "It should be fairly simple. The timber firm that I owned when I was alive is still in existence today. Unfortunately, it is struggling against some unwanted competition. The folder contains dossiers for a crew of loggers up in Alaska. Those men are working for one of my firm's competitors, and they keep cutting trees from land where _my_ firm has sole harvesting rights. Of course, the Alaskan wilderness is a dangerous place. It is all too easy for loggers who aren't careful to get lost, have workplace accidents, or even run into an ill-tempered bear. You know how that goes, right?"

Blitzø nodded with a smirk as he leafed through the contents of the folder. "Easy peasy lemon-squeezy, Mr. Harper. We'll make sure those tree-stealing whores don't come home again."

Harper chuckled softly. "There is a fine line between confidence and bravado, Mr. Blitzø. I will know which you possess once you've returned." The Overlord reached into his jacket once more and pulled out an obscenely fat wad of banknotes bound in a metal clip. Blitzø sat up straight and stared at the money like a cat staring at a dancer. Harper snorted as he waved the cash back and forth, and the imp's eyes followed wherever it went.

"I am paying you 50,000 Souls up front. Once you have returned to Hell and provided photographic, video, or - if you must - physical evidence of each man's death, you will receive an additional 200,000 Souls. I will give you three business days to fulfill your obligation."

"Done!" Blitzø almost shouted as he ripped open one of his desk drawers to pull out some paperwork. "I'll just get the contract filled out here, we can both sign it, and we'll be all set."

"Excellent," Harper said with a warm smile, "I look forward to seeing what your team can do."

* * *

Loona was back at her desk glumly browsing social media, and Millie and Moxxie were huddled together on the couch. Drek remained posted at the main door. All four jumped when Blitzø burst through the door of his office, a rolled up paper held triumphantly over his head.

"Great news, team!" he shouted far louder than necessary, "Say hello our newest I.M.P. client, the Builder Baron himself, Mr. Harper!"

Millie jumped off the couch and cheered. Drek settled back into parade rest, and Moxxie silently got up and trudged over to Loona's desk. He grumbled something incomprehensible as he dug into his pocket and handed a $20 note over to the Hellhound.

As Blitzø joined Millie in celebration, Harper's eyes never left the imp. He'd never taken his eyes off him since entering his office. The whole time the wheels in his head were turning, and he was sizing the imp up. Over almost two centuries of business, he learned to value the art of reading body language. Everyone had a tell, and Blitzø had dozens of them over the course of a single business negotiation.

He would find out soon enough whether Blitzø could live up to his bold claims. But one thing was for certain. Where business was concerned, this imp had no clue what he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Souls: The official currency of Hell, as seen on the banknotes held up by RoboFizz during his song. It appears to employ the same symbol as the dollar.


	4. Chapter 4

Two days later, Harper was back in Blitzø's office. Blitzø sat bolt upright in his seat, a wide grin on his face as he watched the Overlord inspect the stack of gruesome photographs in his lap. Harper's face was unreadable, and he made no comment as he flipped through each one in turn.

Finally, he shuffled the stack neat and placed them in the open folder on Blitzø's desk. "Excellent work," he said, "Your team has a talent for disguising a murder scene as one of an animal attack."

"Do ho ho ho, shucks," Blitzø bashfully laughed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I hope that this sends those pricks the message you want."

"I'm confident it will," said Harper with a cold smile. "Your team has great potential, and you can be sure I will be back with more work for you. Keep up the exceptional work, and the jobs will become bigger, as will the pay."

"Fan-fucking-tastic, Mr. Harper," Blitzø chirped in earnest, "You are an absolute gentleman, and we are hyped to kill for you again." He got up and rounded his desk to shake Harper's hand perhaps a little too vigorously.

"Likewise, Mr. Blitzø," said Harper. Their eyes locked as they shook hands. Once again, the dragon analyzed the imp. The unrestrained joy on his face suggested that he'd never had a client as important or well-paying as Harper. His crude conversational skills further suggested that Blitzø was becoming more at ease in this business relationship. That was good. Fear and intimidation were potent tools, but could adversely impact the quality of a minion's work. That was something else Harper had learned through many years of experience in life and afterwards.

Harper got up and released Blitzø's hand, then took a moment to smooth out the front of his suit. "Now, if there is nothing further for us to discuss at this time, I will take my leave. Drek has your cell number, and will arrange further appointments with you moving forward."

"Wait wait wait!" Blitzø exclaimed, "The team's gonna have a little celebration on another job well done. Millie and Moxxie baked a cake. Ya wanna join us?"

Harper regarded the cheerful imp for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "Very well. I can afford to stay a few minutes to enjoy some refreshment."

Blitzø clapped his hands then went to open the office door for Harper. The dragon demon strode through and approached his valet, who had taken up his usual post at the front door.

"Just a few more minutes, Drek," he said, "Our hired help has invited us to have cake."

"A kind offer, sir," said Drek, "But I will wait here. My diet doesn't allow for sweets."

Harper nodded, then turned to follow Blitzø down the hall to the company's conference room. True to Blitzø's word, Millie and Moxxie had brought a colorful sheetcake, which now took up the center of the table. A few streamers had been hung from the ceilings, and paper party hats nestled between both Millie and Moxxie's horns.

"Mr. Harper!" Millie exclaimed, "Glad you could join us." She hopped down from her chair and ran up to shake his hand. Harper took her hand in his and gave it a modest squeeze. Her husband remained at the table, giving a wary side eye to the Overlord.

"Wouldn't be right if our latest client missed out on the cake. We can cut it now that everyone's here! Well, almost everyone." Millie directed her attention to the door on the opposite side of the room. Something furry and gray disappeared behind the frame.

"Hmm, perhaps Miss Loona does not care for cake?" Harper offered.

"Naw, she _loves_ cake. It's just, you know..." Millie gestured vaguely at the dragon.

Harper chuckled. "Ah yes, I imagine I gave all of you a fright with my little 'demonstration' earlier in the week. You were not in the room, but before that I gave her a stern talking to about her phone etiquette."

Millie looked thoughtful as she put her hands on her hips. "Well golly! That explains a lot. Loona's been awful subdued lately. And she's been super polite when taking calls. I don't think she's hung up on or swore at anyone who's called all week."

The Overlord grinned. "That's fantastic news! I'm confident she will keep it up." He looked up and called out to the hallway "Keep up the great work, Miss Loona. You will be Employee of the Month before you know it!"

Millie only chuckled, then led Harper over to the cake. "Here, would you like to do the honors, sir?" Both Harper and Blitzø reached for the cake knife, then exchanged an awkward glance as their fingers grazed each other's. "I meant Mr. Harper," Millie quickly added. Blitzø was quick to step back while the dragon demon took the knife.

In less than a minute, imps and Overlord were savoring a small paper plate with a neat square of marble cake. The tiny plastic spork looked and felt rather silly between Harper's large fingers, but he made do. In the meantime, he didn't participate much in the small talk. Instead, he observed how the three imps interacted with each other. For all the barbs that Blitzø and Moxxie exchanged, there was still a tight-knit feeling among the three assassins. Whether that left Loona as the odd dog out remained to be seen.

* * *

Though Harper declined a second slice, he did offer his compliments to the bakers. Once he and Drek were back in the limo and on their way back to his estate, he allowed himself to relax. "They certainly are a lively bunch, aren't they?" he said.

"Indeed," Drek replied, "and that's what concerns me about them." The imp looked up at his employer. "I fear that you might be too trusting. You've seen for yourself what they are. Four outcasts operating out of a seedy rented office. Your payment to them is likely the most money they've ever earned at once, and if they aren't out of business in the next month, it will be an unholy miracle."

Harper leaned forward, his fingers steepled in his lap. "That is a valid concern, and just about any casual observer would come to the same conclusion as you. But if there is one thing I learned in my centuries of business, it's that you cannot overlook piles of coal lest you miss the diamond buried within.

"I looked closer, Drek, as I always do. Do you know what I see? I see a man with a passion for what he does, even if he has no sense of business. I also see a tight-knit family with a talent for killing, as well as access to the Living World." Harper took the photographs out of his jacket and handed them to Drek. "Can you name any other firm in Hell that offers a service like theirs? This is an exclusive find, and one that will be a boon to Hellfire Industries. More dead mortals means more Sinners in Hell, and more Sinners means we will be able to replace those lost in the annual exterminations."

Drek glanced through the photos of I.M.P.'s work as Harper continued. "The time and place I entered business was a time when ambitious men took great risks. Some lost everything in the process. Others - such as myself - reaped a fortune and built empires that spanned the mortal Earth.

"We gain nothing for ourselves if we do not take risks, Drek. I have confidence that we have found a diamond among coals. Of course, I am no fool; I will continue to test them through the work I offer. If I am correct, then I.M.P. will become a valuable asset in the coming years, provided they and their owner are given proper guidance." Harper concluded by leaning back in his seat.

His valet slouched and sighed. "You may be correct, sir. I will withhold further judgement until they have completed more contracts from us."

"Splendid!" Harper rumbled happily, "Even if I.M.P. fails in the next few months, the risk we are taking is low. The money I am paying them is but a tiny fraction of my personal wealth. The serious spending will begin only once I am satisfied that my optimism in these imps is well-placed."

The limo pulled up underneath the porte-cochère of Harper's mansion, and Harper wasted no time in getting out and heading upstairs to his office. "Is my schedule clear this evening?" he asked Drek.

"For the next two hours, sir," replied the valet.

"Good. I will use this time to draft some additional contracts for our new 'friends,' to be issued as I see fit. Please hold my calls until I am finished." With that, the Overlord swept into his office and shut the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Another month passed, and Harper's contact with I.M.P. remained consistent (albeit off the record and under the table). The Overlord once again visited their office, this time for debriefing on their tenth mission. He had previously taken to sending an intermediary, but a round number such as ten missions accomplished deserved an in-person visit.

Harper looked on happily as Drek stepped forward with a briefcase containing the latest payment. One million Souls neatly arranged in unmarked bills. True to his word, the fees for each contract had become larger as the Overlord tested the team's capabilities with bigger and more complex jobs. Blitzø was practically salivating as the other imp set the case on his desk and opened it. Harper did his best to suppress his amusement at the display of childlike glee.

"Good doing business with you as always, Mr. Harper," said Blitzø as he started to enthusiastically count out the money.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Blitzø," replied Harper, "You are prompt and discreet in your work. For the most part, at least."

"Know what? Just call me Blitzø," the imp said after a brief pause, "It sounds weird with 'Mr.' in front of it."

Harper shifted a little in his seat, causing the office chair to squeak under his weight. "Very well, Blitzø. In that case, you may refrain from using 'Mr.' with me as well. Simply 'Harper' will suffice. Much more direct and to the point. I appreciate that from a fellow man of business such as yourself."

Blitzø looked up from the open briefcase. "Uhhhhh, sure! No problem. Just don't call me 'Blitzy.' Fucking pisses me off."

This time, Harper couldn't help but laugh. "Perish the thought! It would be most unprofessional." The draconic demon noticed the way Blitzø seemed to relax.

With the transaction concluded, Harper decided to change the subject. "I trust my business has brought a steadier supply of revenue?"

"Oh yeah!" Blitzø chirped, "Usually the cash is unpredictable. And it's _always_ cash. Fuckers are real paranoid down here. Don't want a paper trail. Not that I blame them, since most of our targets end up here with our clients. I know if somebody killed _me_ from the afterlife, priority numero uno would be to find that cock-juggling shitlicker and kick his ass all the way to Treachery."

"A fair point," Harper agreed. The more he interacted with Blitzø, the more the imp's fondness for vulgarities became apparent. It was unprofessional, but strangely endearing. That colorful personality _was_ part of the reason Harper found him intriguing. Now, to start teasing out some additional information, to see if his early read on him was correct. "Now that you have been posting record revenues, I imagine that you have some ideas as to how you can invest them?"

At that, Blitzø jumped up, a gleam in his eyes. "You bet your ass I do!" he exclaimed, while Harper suppressed a laugh at just how familiar the imp was getting with him. "My eels are getting lonely. They could use a friend or six. Ooh! I also saw this solid gold bidet for sale down at the hardware store. It'd work wonders for morale! And, and we could buy the biggest, sexiest billboard in Imp City! It'll be the same as the one we have up now, just bigger. Moxxie keeps telling me we need to change the text, but he's just pissed that I'm better at advertising than he is."

As Blitzø continued to rattle off a long list of vanity projects he intended to spend money on, Harper sat back and mulled over everything he was hearing. His suspicions were correct: This imp had no business sense whatsoever. He was a fine assassin, and he worked well with the small team he had cobbled together. But the fact that he was divulging all this information so readily to an Overlord tycoon who could easily outcompete him was a troublesome sign in itself. Never mind that he seemed to want to spend company funds on a giant chocolate bunny with his head on it.

"I am confident in assuming," Harper cut in, "That all these big plans for your firm are being considered after allocating for employee salaries, including your own?"

Blitzø froze mid-sentence, then looked down at the open briefcase full of money. "Holy shit, that's right! We're actually gonna have a payday this month!"

Harper pinched the bridge of his snout as Blitzø quickly counted out and set aside a few stacks of Souls for himself and his three employees. It truly was a miracle that I.M.P. had survived as long as it had! Unless...

Was there someone else acting as a lifeline for this company? The more Harper thought about it, the more he realized that ad hoc assassin work would not be able to keep this company afloat for as long as it had been open. Someone had to either be lending Blitzø money, or giving him steady work like the Overlord was doing now. He filed that line of inquiry away for later.

For now, it was best to move the conversation to away from work. The dragon demon thought for a moment, then he noticed the brightly-colored equine figurine sitting on Blitzø's desk. "I do not wish to pry, but I am curious. What is that toy you have there, next to the ones that look like your employees?"

Once more, Blitzø's face lit up, and sparkles filled his eyes. Harper heard Drek huff quietly behind him. "Drek, if you wish to wait in the limo, you may."

"Gladly," grumbled Drek, who made an about face and quietly left the office.

Blitzø didn't seem to notice the exchange, or Drek's departure. "This little cutie right here? That's Twinklebutt! She is the smartest and the bravest little horsie in the whole wide world!" The imp then cleared his throat and added "She's part of the Your Pretty Horsie franchise."

Harper inclined his head. "I may have heard of it in passing, but I do prefer real horses to the more, ah, fantastic variations."

To the Overlord's surprise and consternation, Blitzø let out a long, drawn-out gasp. "You like horses too?" he squeaked, barely in a whisper.

Harper chuckled, then scooted his chair a little closer. "I do fancy myself something of an amateur equestrian. When I was alive I kept a few myself. Mostly for pulling my carriage, but I did own a few shares in race horses, and I did go riding from time to time."

The next half hour was occupied by Harper and Blitzø animatedly discussing everything to do with horses and horseback riding. The Overlord was impressed by Blitzø's almost encyclopedic knowledge of horse breeds, as well as his experience with riding. Harper in turn shared memorable moments from the times he had ridden on horseback in life, as well as describing which ones had been his favorite. Whenever he spoke, Blitzø hung onto every word with rapt attention and wide eyes.

"I must say," Harper finally said, "I never would have expected that we shared a hobby. But it is a pleasant and welcome surprise."

"No kidding!" said Blitzø, "I feel like I could talk about horses with you all day."

The dragon chuckled, "Much as I would enjoy that, I am afraid I do have a schedule to adhere to." He took a moment to check his pocket watch. "I'm sure Drek will be worried if I don't take my leave soon. And I am sure that you have your own work ahead of you."

Just as soon as Harper said this, Blitzø's phone rang. The imp was quick to snatch up the screaming device. "WHAT?" he barked. Though Harper could not make out the words on the other end, it sounded like Loona's voice.

"Well stall him, I'm in a meeting...What do you mean you can't?...Yes, he's been texting me all day, but he needs to learn how to go two goddamn hours without blowing up my inbox...Ugh, FINE! I'll talk to him. Just gimme a sec." He put his claws over the receiver and shot an apologetic glance to Harper. "Hey, I'd love to keep going, but I gotta take this call." The dragon nodded in understanding, then moved to get up.

"Hello my beautiful, sexy little Blitzy~" cooed a voice that made Harper freeze. Blitzø did not seem to notice. He stood up and turned his back to the Overlord, muffling whatever else the Prince of Hell had to say from earshot.

"Look Stolas, I'm really busy today, so this better be important." With his back to Harper, Blitzø couldn't see how the dragon's face turned from one of shock, to irritation. Smoke trailed from Harper's nostrils, and his talons tore tiny holes in his trousers as he his hands clenched on his knees in a vice grip.

Harper took a deep breath and composed himself just as Blitzø turned back around to face him. "Yeah, I know I left your texts on Read, and that's my bad. Things have been really crazy lately," said the imp, before exchanging a nod with the dragon as he stood up to leave. "Alright slow down, who is this guy again? Right...Okay...Yeah we'll take care of him...No I haven't forgotten our deal...Right, see you this Saturday, and so help me you better have enough lube this time!"

The Overlord froze again as he heard the last sentence, but only for a moment. He pulled the door closed and walked right past the company's exit. Instead, he headed straight for the hallway toward the break room. On the way, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Drek? Yes, I am afraid you will be waiting for a little longer. I have some questions for Blitzø's employees."


	6. Chapter 6

Harper made no effort to approach Loona. He had seen her hiding behind the front desk as he emerged from Blitzø's office. No matter, he could smooth things over with her at his leisure, at least if he cared to.

The employees he was most interested in were the husband and wife team. He found Millie and Moxxie sitting together in the break room. The two imps didn't appear to be saying anything, just quietly gazing into each other's eyes. Moxxie's hand was on top of Millie's, and their tails loosely twined around each other.

The Overlord took a moment to admire the scene before he spoke to them. "One of the things that most pleasantly surprised me upon my arrival to Hell was to learn that love could not only survive here, but thrive," he said.

The wedded couple jumped at the sudden intrusion. Moxxie was on his feet in less than a second. "L-Lord Harper! Wh-what can we do for you?" he stammered nervously.

The draconic demon chuckled and raised a placating hand. "At ease, Moxxie. I only wish to talk to you and Millie. Please, sit back down." Harper took the chair across from the two imps as Moxxie nervously sat back down.

"As I was saying, it was a pleasant surprise to find happy couples down here in Hell. True, they are not as common as up above, but I still see them often enough." Harper smiled warmly at both of them. "I can see how close you two are, and it warms my heart. You both remind me of myself and the Missus when we were alive."

"Awwwww, that's mighty sweet of you!" Millie exclaimed as she leaned in. Moxxie smiled nervously, but hung back. "I'll bet she was a real sweetheart."

"The sweetest and most beautiful woman you can imagine," Harper readily agreed, "I cherished every day I spent with her."

Millie squealed in delight, and even Moxxie's expression softened. With the ice broken, Harper moved on to the matter at hand. "Of course, that is not the reason I wished to speak with you. Rather, I have some questions about your employer."

"Blitzø? What do ya wanna know about him?" Millie asked. Moxxie sat up a bit straighter. His tail found its way back to Millie's and coiled around it.

"He took a rather strange phone call as we were concluding our business," Harper continued. "He seems to have a level of familiarity with the Goetic Prince Stolas."

Moxxie and Millie both tensed a little as Harper leaned forward. "Tell me, what business does Prince Stolas have with I.M.P.?"

"W-well," Moxxie spluttered as he scratched the back of his head, "It's a bit of a long story."

"I am confident you will be able to summarize it well," Harper simply said.

Moxxie swallowed hard, then looked at Millie. She nodded with an encouraging smile. Returning the smile, Moxxie turned back to Harper. "Well, sir, until you came along, Stolas was our only regular client. He provides us with somewhat regular work."

So that was one mystery solved. Prince Stolas was the one keeping I.M.P. afloat for so long! But why? Harper took a moment to choose his words before probing further. "I'm surprised that His Highness would have an interest in interfering with Earthly affairs. It was my understanding he took more of an interest in the stars and botany."

"Weeeeeeeell it's not so much that he's interested in human affairs as he is in Blitzø himself," Moxxie continued. "Blitzø is using one of his grimoires to access the living world. Prince Stolas arranged a deal with him after he caught Blitzø trying to steal it."

Now it was Harper's turn to recoil from surprise. "Your employer attempted to steal from a senior member of the House Goetia???"

"Yeah!" said Millie, "Isn't that cool? And it turned out well in the end. His Highness was real understanding about the whole thing, and lets us borrow the book so we can do our work, and he even sends contracts our way."

Harper quirked a brow. He folded his hands on the table and leaned further forward still. "And what does Prince Stolas have to gain from lending you his grimoire?"

Again, Moxxie scratched the back of his head. "Well, the thing is," he awkwardly cleared his throat, "He agreed to let Blitzø borrow the book in exchange for, ah, spending time with him. Every full moon, Blitzø goes over to the Goetia estate for an "intimate" discussion."

"He goes and fucks Stolas six ways from Sunday!"

"MILLIE!!!"

Harper was unfazed by the bluntness of Millie's statement. He leaned back in his seat, turning thoughtful. "Hmm, that would definitely explain why Blitzø saw fit to mention using lube on his phonecall." This got a blush and a facepalm from Moxxie. The Overlord stood up and smoothed out his jacket.

"That was all that I needed to ask you. Thank you for being so open with me." He shook each imp's hand in turn, then donned his overcoat and strode out.

Millie and Moxxie watched Harper leave with trepidation. "Ya think we made a mistake telling him all that?" Millie asked.

Moxxie scooted over to squeeze his wife. "I don't know why he wants to know, but would you want to be caught lying to an Overlord?" 

Millie emphatically shook her head.

* * *

"I don't like this."

Harper turned to regard his valet after emerging from his limo. "Would you care to elaborate, Drek?"

Drek closed the car door and stuffed his hands into his pockets as both men hurried into the house. As much as living mortals joked about Hell freezing over, winters could get pretty damn cold this time of year, even in the Pride Circle.

"You said it yourself," Drek continued once they were inside, "I.M.P. is a pawn of Prince Stolas, and Blitzø appears to be in an intimate relationship with him. We are playing a dangerous game if we interfere with the company. It's in House Goetia's sphere."

Harper grinned like a hungry predator, "All the more reason for me to deepen my involvement," he said.

Drek spluttered, "S-sir?!"

"Remember what we discussed earlier? Blitzø and his associates are diamonds in the coal. Prince Stolas lacks the vision to see their full potential, and how he may benefit from it. Rather, he is only interested in its owner's body. He has scarcely even noticed that Blitzø has been taking contracts from myself and my surrogates."

Harper slipped out of his overcoat and hung it on the rack in the antechamber. "Prince Stolas has been trying to stamp out my business empire and retake the territory I liberated from his subordinates for decades," he continued, "And now a golden opportunity has turned up right in front of us. If we pry I.M.P. away from Stolas's sphere of influence it will be another blow to him, even if he does not yet know it."

"But sir! Stolas is the commander of twenty-six of Hell's Legions. If you start another war, it won't end well for us. Need I remind you of the last time you and he came to blows?"

The draconic demon got down on one knee and rested his large hands on Drek's shoulders, almost enveloping him in the process. "Drek, you have always been the pessimist and the contrarian in my ranks, and I value that. It is why I have kept you around for so long. But please do not insult my intelligence by assuming I do not know any of this." He extended one of his wings. A patchwork of scars ran along the membrane. "I'm reminded every day of my foolish mistake, and it is not one I intend to make again."

Standing back up, Harper directed his valet to follow, then headed upstairs for his office. "What you Hellborn fail to realize is that we Sinners know a few tricks that you don't. I have studied every member of House Goetia for decades after my defeat, and it has become increasingly apparent that he doesn't know what a proxy war is." That predatory grin returned, "And I plan to teach His Highness what a proxy war is first hand."


	7. Chapter 7

For two weeks, things were quiet at I.M.P. Save for the occasional client off the street, or the odd job from Stolas (the latter accompanied by many thirsty calls and texts), the sudden surge of work had tapered off. Drek hadn't called to arrange for a contract in some time, and the group of assassins were beginning to worry.

Blitzø, however, had other concerns. "M&M! Loonie! Meet me in the conference room!" He shouted into his bullhorn, "I've got a surprise for you!"

His three employees filed into the conference room to find him standing by the table, practically bouncing with excitement. A large object covered in a sheet took up the center of the table.

"Everyone, say hello to the future of advertising TODAY!" Blitzø proclaimed as he yanked the sheet away. Standing proudly on the table was a shiny, metallic, three foot sculpture of an erect phallus, with a massive pair of testicles for good measure.

The room was deathly quiet for at least a full minute. Millie and Moxxie looked stunned, and Loona had spared the briefest of glances at the sculpture before scoffing in disgust and going back to her phone. Finally, the silence was broken.

"Sir? That's a penis," Moxxie deadpanned.

"Correctamundo!" chirped Blitzø, "But it's not just any penis. This here is a blown up replica of _my_ penis." He preened cheerfully as he leaned over and rested a hand on the veiny shaft. "I think it turned out pretty good!"

"BLITZ WHAT THE FUCK?!" shouted Loona as she threw her hands up, sending her phone flying across the room. "No, just no! You're fucking gross, and I'm taking the rest of today off." The Hellhound stormed out of the room without another word.

"Okay, see you at home!" Blitzø called after her. He moseyed over to pick up Loona's phone, then he turned to Millie and Moxxie. Millie appeared surprised and slightly intrigued. Moxxie was just as wide-eyed as his wife, but his small body was quivering. His face was contorted into some sort of scowl that conveyed a blend of horror, disgust, and rage.

"You...you..." Moxxie growled in a strangled voice. Suddenly, the scowl left the little imp's face, and it melted into one of unnerving calm. "Let me get this straight. You took the earnings from Mr. Harper's contracts, and spent them all on a giant, platinum replica of your own dick?"

"Well, not _all_ of them. I did remember to pay you guys, after all!" Blitzø replied.

Moxxie steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips. "And how, exactly, is a giant metal casting of your own dick supposed to work as a marketing ploy?"

"Ah right, I forgot you might be a little too slow to figure it out, so I'll walk you through it," Blitzø gestured with both hands to the penile sculpture. "This thing is an analogy. It shows that not only are we gonna _**FUCK**_ our competition, but we're also gonna _**FUCK**_ our targets for our clients, who got _**FUCKED**_ over by them while they were alive."

"Ohhhhhhhh, I get it!" cheered Millie, "That's kinda clever!"

"I - WHAT?!" Moxxie screamed. He took another deep breath and ran his claws through his hair. "Blitzø, I still don't see how this will attract more business."

"Bend over and I'll show ya!"

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!" Moxxie lunged at Blitzø just as his phone rang. Blitzø used one hand to check and answer his phone while his other gripped Moxxie by the forehead to keep him flailing out of reach.

"Blitzø speaking!" he greeted. "Hey Drek! Good to hear from ya again. It's been awhile!" That got Moxxie to calm down almost immediately. The smaller imp slackened and fell onto his knees, panting heavily. Millie was swift to pull her husband into a warm embrace and stroke his hair.

"Hello Mr. Blitzø," replied Drek, "It has indeed been some time since we spoke, and for good reason. All will become clear in due time."

"Oooh, how mysterious!" said Blitzø, "Is this gonna be like one of those super spy movies?"

That got a chuckle out of the valet. "Not quite, but it is still important. Mr. Harper wishes to meet with you again, this time at his own office. We are sending a car to I.M.P. headquarters to pick you up. Do _not_ keep Mr. Harper waiting."

"Sure thing, Drekster! I'll grab my gear and be out in the parking lot in just a minute."

"Good. Mr. Harper looks forward to seeing you again. Oh, and Mr. Blitzø? Please never call me 'Drekster' again." The valet hung up before Blitzø could offer a retort.

"Well that's weird. Harper wants me to go over to his place this time," he said. Moxxie and Millie exchanged brief glances.

"Um, sir," started Moxxie, "I should probably tell you. The last time Mr. Harper visited the office, he tracked Millie and me down in the break room and asked some questions."

Blitzø cocked his head and raised a brow. "What kind of questions?"

"About...about..." Moxxie buried his head in his hands. " _Fuck_ , we shouldn't have said anything. We should've played dumb. But no, we had to tell him everything!"

"Mox, calm down!" Millie said, "You said yourself it wouldn't be a good idea to try to lie to an Overlord."

"Okay, what did you tell him?" Blitzø demanded. When Moxxie didn't immediately respond, he grabbed him by the shoulders and said louder, "WHAT did you TELL him, Moxxie?"

Unfortunately, Moxxie was beyond words at this point. He hugged himself and curled into a ball, his breaths coming fast and deep. Millie got on her hands and knees to tend to him.

"Mox, look at me. Look at me! Alright, nice and easy now. Breathe in...hold...breathe out." It took a few minutes, but once she was satisfied her husband was out of danger, she looked up at Blitzø, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Mr. Harper asked us about your relationship with Stolas," she said, "We told him everything. How you got caught stealing the book, and how he lets you borrow it in exchange for fucking him."

Blitzø sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God- _fucking_ -dammit, you guys. Don't you know that Harper and Stolas hate each other's guts??? Dad would tell us stories growing up about the turf war they had. He'd always say he was lucky to have survived it."

He paced back and forth in front of his employees, "But I suppose he was gonna find out sooner or later. Nothing short of a miracle Stolas didn't decide to drop in during one of my debriefs with Harper," he paused, then smacked his forehead. "And I _did_ take a phone call from Stolas right in front of him! That's probably why he asked you two about it."

The imp then composed himself and put on a brave face. "Who knows? Harper might not even be mad about this, and he's calling this meeting for some other reasons! Maybe he's getting us a better coffee machine?"

Moxxie made a strange wheezing sound, but was in no condition to talk. Millie spoke for him. "What Mox and I wanna know is why you accepted a contract from Mr. Harper when you _knew_ he and Stolas are enemies?"

"Okay, A: Loonie and I live in his territory, so I really don't wanna say no to him, especially after Loonie was rude to him. And 2: he's got a _fuckton of money_." He gestured wildly at his newly commissioned penis sculpture for emphasis. "He helped make this happen!"

Blitzø then straightened his coat and strode out of the room. "I'm grabbing my stuff and going down to the parking lot," he called over his shoulder. "Both of you can go home. I'll call you as soon as I'm done meeting with Harper."

Millie helped Moxxie back to his feet, though he still leaned heavily on her. "I guess we should just go home and wait for his call," she said. "You could use the rest, too."

Moxxie nodded weakly, and they both closed up the office for the day, filled with dread and uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This one was getting long, so I decided to tie it off here and push the meeting over to Chapter 8.
> 
> Also, talk about your mood whiplash! Of course, given how quickly things can go from silly to serious in the show, it's to be expected.


	8. Chapter 8

True to Drek's word, there was a car waiting for Blitzø in the parking lot when he emerged. He rode to Harper's estate in silence. All the while, his thoughts raced at a mile a minute.

_He found out I'm banging Stolas, and ghosted us for a couple weeks. Now he wants to see me over at his place. Is he mad at me? Oh God, I bet he's mad at me. Fuck, I should've brought more ammo for my pistol. Not like it'll do much good against an Overlord._

So lost in thought and worry was Blitzø that he scarcely was able to appreciate the lavish rolling lawns and attached forestry of the dragon demon's estate, or the elegant Queen Anne-style mansion at the top of the hill. The black sedan pulled to a stop under the house's porte-cochère, where Drek was waiting for him.

"Arms out," said the valet, "I need to check you for weapons."

Blitzø sighed and held out his arms. "There's a flintlock in my coat pocket," he said upfront, "I take it everywhere."

Drek fished out the other imp's pistol and then resumed patting down his arms and legs. He confiscated the ammo for the pistol, as well as a couple of knives. "You will get these back once your business with Mr. Harper is concluded," he said. That offered a small ray of hope. That meant that Harper wasn't going to kill him, right?

Nervously, Blitzø stepped into the antechamber. Drek offered to take his coat, but he declined. The two imps walked into the sitting room, where Drek instructed him to wait for Mr. Harper.

Once he was alone, Blitzø finally let himself take in the old-fashioned elegance of the sitting room. The furniture was antique, but comfortable. Colorful flowers and vines decorated the edges of the ceiling. Brass wall sconces offered dim light to compliment the natural light filtering through the room's tall windows. There were even some signs of renovation, such as the modern gas fireplace that now took up the hearth.

With no sound but the steadfast ticking of the grandfather clock out in the hallway, Blitzø quickly grew bored. His attention was drawn to a painting hanging over the mantle. He got up from the sofa to take a closer look.

The painting was an oil on canvas, and it portrayed a scene from the American Great Plains. A herd of wild mustangs, their coats a diverse patchwork of blacks, whites, browns, and speckled grays, thundered freely through the tall, rolling grass.

Blitzø stood transfixed. He had never seen a painting like this before, and an array of emotions welled up in him. Joy dominated among them, but there was also an element of sadness and longing. The imp reached up to rest a hand on the mantle, and his eyes never left the beautiful landscape portrait.

"Lovely, isn't it?" said Harper, who had at some point appeared right next to Blitzø.

"HOLY SHIT!" shouted Blitzø in alarm, nearly shooting straight up to the ceiling. He collapsed into one of the nearby sitting room chairs and panted. "Don't...do that!"

Harper laughed, then stooped down to help Blitzø back upright. "My apologies. You must not have heard me come in. But I am pleased you appreciate my painting. I am quite proud of it."

Blitzø looked back over to the portrait. "Did you draw it yourself?"

"Oh goodness no!" said Harper, "But I did have it commissioned special." He guided Blitzø back over to the mantle and admired it himself for a bit. "Whenever I would visit out West in life, I would sometimes see a herd of these magnificent wild beasts running alongside the train. I would see buffalo too, in even greater numbers." He sighed wistfully. "It was all a magnificent sight to behold."

The two demons stood in silence for another moment, before Harper rested a hand on Blitzø's shoulder. "I suppose we should get down to business. Let's go up to my office."

The apprehension that had melted away while Blitzø was looking at the painting with Harper began to creep back in. He quietly mulled over why the Overlord had brought him here as they made their way upstairs. He didn't seem pissed off, and hadn't made any moves to kick his ass. Well then what was this about?

Harper closed the office door behind them and escorted Blitzø to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Once the draconic demon had taken a seat, he folded his hands and smiled. "No need to worry. I'm not upset with you, if that is what you are thinking."

The sigh of relief from Blitzø was almost deafening. "Ohhhhh thank Lucifer! I was so sure you were gonna rip me a new asshole, possibly literally!"

The Overlord chuckled and shook his head. "I'd never wish to harm my favorite assassin! Though I understand why you would think I might be unhappy, given that I'd found out about your, ah, _intimate_ ties to Prince Stolas."

Blitzø put his hands up defensively. "Okay, okay, I know what it looks like, but I can assure you -" He was silenced when Harper raised a hand.

"Your employees enlightened me on the situation, and you have no need to defend it. It should have been apparent to me that he was involved. How else would you have access to the Living World?" He got up from his chair and walked over to the large window overlooking his grounds. "Tell me Blitzø, are you happy with the arrangement that you have?" He turned to look back at the imp.

"Ehhhhhhhh," said Blitzø, who raised his hand and waggled it from side to side. "I mean, the sex is pretty good, I guess. But I can't say I'm a fan of how clingy he is. I mean, I'm fucking him so that he'll let me use his book, but he seems to think I'm a friend with benefits, or a boyfriend. But at the same time, it doesn't feel like he wants me for more than my body," he flinched as Harper inclined his head. "That makes sense, right? He's sending lots of mixed signals. Oh, that reminds me." The imp quickly pulled out his phone to turn it off. "Can't have him butting in while we're talking."

Harper chuckled again and shook his head. "Of course not! His Highness is not known for being convenient with his timing. But moving along to the reason I brought you here. I have a proposal for you."

With a wave of his hand, the Overlord conjured up a stack of legal documents, which came to rest on his desk as he sat back down behind it. "I wish to invest in I.M.P. Your business with Stolas does not matter to me. In fact, it is my belief that His Highness is overlooking just how valuable your company is to him, me, and Hell as a whole."

Blitzø's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, both at the proposal and Harper's declaration of I.M.P.'s value to Hell. "R-really? You mean it? No fooling?"

Harper offered his warmest smile, which Blitzø couldn't help but return. "No fooling," the Overlord confirmed. "I want a stake in your company, so that you can grow it to its full potential. Together, we can make I.M.P. a juggernaut in Hell's service industry!"

The imp had already pulled over the documents and was patting down his coat. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure Moxxie can make you a steak if you want one. How rare do you like it? Shit! I didn't bring a pen with me."

Harper cocked his head. "You are not going to read the terms of my investment?"

"Hey, I started I.M.P. because I'm good at leading assassins, not reading papers. Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

The Overlord shook his head in amusement and handed over an ebony fountain pen. This imp was lucky that he wasn't being taken advantage of any more than he already was by Stolas. Blitzø started to write his name, then paused. "Hold up, this agreement doesn't require me to have sex with you every month, does it?"

"Certainly not!" Harper said with a slight recoil, "It would be most unprofessional!"

"Great!" exclaimed the imp, who then completed his signature.

Once Blitzø had finished scrawling his name along the dotted line, Harper pulled them over to his side so he could sign his own name.

"It is done," he said, "Moving forward, I will have a non-controlling stake in I.M.P. It will be through one of my shell companies, of course. It wouldn't do for Stolas to find my name among the list of your benefactors." He put his pen away and shuffled the papers. "I will send you copies of these for your own records. In the meantime, we can discuss how we can improve your operations."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa," Blitzø said, "Back up. You didn't say anything about changing I.M.P. That's my baby we're talking about!"

Harper raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Now now, none of this will be strictly required. I only wish to assist you in growing I.M.P. to its full potential. You will still be in charge all the way." He leaned back a little in his chair. "See this more as some professional advise, not a request."

Blitzø tilted his head. "Okay, so what do you suggest?"

The dragon got up and returned to pacing before his window. "From my meetings with you, it's apparent that you have a passion both for killing people as well as being in the spotlight. Both will get you far in Hell. However, I've also noticed that when it comes to the more mundane tasks of operating a business day to day, you are much less enthusiastic."

"HA! You can say that again!" Blitzø laughed, "Sometimes feels like I'm herding cats. Would be way easier if I only had to worry about murdering mortals and spending time with my office family."

Harper turned back to Blitzø with a playful grin. "So why don't we change the company to let you do just that! You'll still be owner and CEO of I.M.P., but you can delegate the boring responsibilities to another one of your employees. What about that Moxxie fellow? He seems to have a good head on his shoulders."

"Pffff! Moxxie?" Blitzø scoffed, "That baby wiener-haver might be good with guns, but there's no way he has what it takes to run a successful business! I mean, there's no way the company would be as awesome as it is now with him in charge!"

For several moments, Harper only stared out the window. Then he let out a weary sigh. Even so, he was smiling when he turned back around. "Moxxie would still answer to you, of course," he said. Then he sat down and pulled out a pen and paper and began to write. "I am making a list of the duties and responsibilities he would take on as your Chief of Operations. This will let you focus on all the _fun_ aspects of being the boss."

Understanding dawned on Blitzø's face. "Ohhhhhh, so give all the bitch work to the little bitch!" he said as he snatched up the paper Harper offered him. After a quick glance at it, he stuffed it into his coat. "I'll give this to him tomorrow."

"Very good," said Harper. He then stood and extended his hand to Blitzø, who happily took it. "A pleasure doing business with you as always. Since you are here, and our business is concluded, perhaps you would tour the grounds with me? It is not often I have guests these days."

Blitzø thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? The air's a lot cleaner out here anyways. Just lemme quick call M&M to let them know I'm okay."

Moxxie and Millie were both relieved to hear Blitzø was alive and well, much to Harper's amusement. The imp opted to save the news about their new investor and Moxxie's promotion for the following day. With that taken care of, the Overlord got up and led Blitzø back downstairs and out the back door.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon, both demons wandered the grounds of Harper's estate (with Drek shadowing them a few paces back). While the land close to the house had carefully maintained lawns and gardens, further out the land had been extensively terraformed to lovingly recreate the natural temperate forests of North America. Harper referred to them as "English gardens," though Blitzø didn't understand what that was supposed to mean.

As beautiful as the gardens were, the two men were more engaged with each other. Conversation focused on horses at first, but then branched out from there. Blitzø spoke at length about his adopted daughter with fawning adoration. Conversation only turned to their surroundings when Harper came to a tree or a plant species he really wanted to show the imp.

By the time Harper and Blitzø returned to the car, the sun was already setting. "Wow, time sure does fly when you're having fun," said Blitzø, "Usually doesn't happen to me unless I'm out killing people."

"I can't remember a more pleasant afternoon myself," agreed Harper, "It was a pleasure having you to accompany me today. Alas, all good things must come to an end."

The car's driver took his seat while Harper opened the back door for Blitzø. The dragon stopped the imp before he could climb in. "Before you go, I have one final proposal. Until now we have gotten together for matters of business. Perhaps you would like to visit with me again, and not to discuss I.M.P.?"

Blitzø paused as he mulled the suggestion over. Then his face brightened. "You know what? Sure. I'll have to check my schedule, and we probably shouldn't plan anything over the full moon, but I wouldn't mind hanging out with you again."

The Overlord nodded, "I look forward to it. Drek will text you my personal number later today and times I'm available to take your call."

"Cool. Well, I suppose I'll see ya later then?"

"Until next time." Harper stepped back from the car as Blitzø got in, and remained underneath the porte-cochère to watch as the sedan pulled out and followed the winding private road down to the exit.

Inside the car, the imp was practically hugging himself with joy. _Oh my God oh my God oh my God! I'm friends with an Overlord_ _!_

His glee abruptly faded as he came to another realization. "I'm friends with an Overlord, who is also Stolas's worst enemy," he said aloud. Then, after a moment, came to a conclusion.

"Fuck!"


	9. Chapter 9

In the three years he had worked for I.M.P., Moxxie had never felt more conflicted.

He had been surprised and delighted when Blitzø had walked in during the morning meeting and slapped down a sheet of paper detailing his promotion to Chief of Operations. It had come with a hefty pay increase, and with the duty of payroll passing to Moxxie for the time being, he and Millie could actually afford to go on vacation this year!

Moxxie had wasted no time in the following month reorganizing I.M.P. to prioritize efficiency and professionalism. True, he had to continue to put up with Blitzø's antics and impulsive purchases, but with control of the purse strings now in his hands, Moxxie was able to curb their frequency. Of course, Blitzø hadn't been pleased to learn he couldn't blow as much company money on his pet projects as before. Moxxie had been able to placate him by allocating a small part of the budget to "discretionary spending" that Blitzø could draw on when he felt like wasting money.

Of course, the downside of this promotion was a drastically increased workload, with less of an emphasis of going on missions. At the moment, Moxxie was sitting in a hastily erected cubicle that served as his new "office." More cubicles were set to be erected wherever they would fit, for when they would eventually be hiring more people.

Moxxie pushed away from his desk and rubbed his temples. Mountains of paperwork were piled high before him. He was laying the groundwork for the establishment of formal billing, marketing, and accounting departments.

With Millie out on the job, he saw much less of his beloved wife than he used to, and it was driving him nuts. Hopefully having the foundations of a full office team would be well worth the extra work and the separation anxiety. The two accountants Mr. Harper lent I.M.P. were already proving their worth to the tune of tens of thousands of recovered Souls after years of Blitzø's clerical mistakes were cleaned up.

And there, more than the extra work and the diminished time spent with his Millie, was what conflicted Moxxie the most. There was no doubt that Harper's involvement was greatly improving the company's fortunes and income. The contracts coming in from the various subsidiaries and shell companies Harper fielded would ensure I.M.P. stayed in business for years. But they owed their access to the living world to one of Harper's worst enemies. Stolas was ignorant of his rival's involvement for now, but how long could that last? What would happen when - not if - he found out? Letting that Overlord into their lives could be putting him and his beloved wife in danger.

The little imp gave up on his work for the time being and headed to the restroom. After splashing his face, he headed to the break room to grab another cup of coffee. It was going to be another long day.

To his pleasant surprise, he found someone waiting for him there. "Millie!" he exclaimed. His wife got up from the table and clasped hands with him as they affectionately rubbed noses. "You're back early!"

"I know, right?" Millie chirped, "Turns out the guy we were after didn't have any sense of self-preservation. He was easy pickings."

"That's great! But where's Blitzø? He usually comes by to pester me after a mission."

"Oh, he said he had to go meet with Mr. Harper, and it was important. We're in charge of closing tonight."

Moxxie stepped back and put his hands on his hips. "Again? How many times in one month must that imp run off to meetings with him? I know he is an investor now, but what could they possibly have to discuss that would justify him going over to Mr. Harper's estate so much? Wait..." his eyes widened, "You don't suppose there is something else going on between them, do you?"

Millie shrugged, "Whatever it is, it must be something he enjoys. He's always in a great mood the next morning. Maybe they're friends? Or maybe he's doing something like he does with Stolas, only every week instead of every full moon?"

Moxxie growled and tangled his claws in his hair. "That reckless buffoon better not be seeing Lord Harper behind Stolas's back! He's already taking a huge risk letting him finance the company!"

His growing anxiety was defused when his wife put her arms around him. "I'm sure he'll be alright, Mox," she soothed, " _we'll_ be alright. First thing tomorrow, we'll confront him together and get to the bottom of this."

Moxxie relaxed and let his tail coil around hers as natural as could be. "Right. We'll bring it up at the team meeting."

* * *

Harper racked the barbells with a grunt of relief. He glanced back at the obscene number of weights packed onto it. This had to be a new record.

While stretching, the drake took a moment to admire the thick slabs of muscle that covered his stocky frame. While he had enjoyed a linebacker's build in life that had come in handy for boardroom intimidation, this demonic body had so much more potential. He had every intention of pushing it as far along as he could.

Before he could begin another set, he was jolted by a loud crash from somewhere on the first floor. Harper dashed from his home gym and down the stairs. It sounded like it had come from the dining room. He could hear voices shouting as he drew nearer.

Inside the dining room, Harper found two imps against the wall beside the overturned table and scattered chairs. Drek had Blitzø pinned to the wall with a blade to his throat and his teeth bared in fury. Blitzø, for his part, had the common decency to be terrified. He held his hands up as he babbled half-coherent explanations over Drek's accusations.

" **QUIET**!" boomed Harper. The quarreling imps immediately froze and looked in his direction. As wide-eyed as Drek was from the shock, Blitzø's eyes grew wider still at the sight of the dragon in a form-fitting tank top and shorts.

Harper did not seem to notice he was being ogled, however. "Drek! Stand down." He barked. His valet reluctantly obliged.

Blitzø dusted himself off, but kept his eyes fixed on the Overlord. This was the first time he'd seen his arms and legs bare. He was fucking ripped! The tank top he wore was cut low too, and a good portion of his deep red pecs was exposed for all to see. Those gym shorts clung to his thighs, which were thick as tree trunks. On top of all that, the dragon's crimson hide was dusted with beads of sweat that glistened in the fading evening light.

And now Harper was saying something. Blitzø shook his head. "Come again?"

"I said," Harper repeated, "What is going on here?"

"Oh yeah! You said the other day we could hang out later in the evening. I suggested a movie night and you liked the idea. Well here I am!" Blitzø nervously bent down to show the day pack he'd brought along with him. "I brought my favorite to show you tonight."

Harper steepled his fingers and nodded. "Yes, I remember we agreed to meet tonight. You had not called to arrange a time to pick you up. I was going to send a car once I was finished with my exercises."

The imp looked away, his cheeks burning. Wait, why was he blushing? "Probably should've called ahead, but I knew the way here and I'd memorized your schedule. Didn't think it'd be a big deal if I came in. But _apparently_ not." He shot an acidic glare at Drek, who only rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

"Drek was only doing his job, which includes protecting me, my property, and my staff from intruders," Harper sighed. His fingers rubbed at one of his temples. "Nevermind. What's done is done. Drek, right the table and chairs. The domestic staff will take care of the rest. Blitzø, you may wait for me in the entertainment room. I will go shower and get a change of clothes."

He turned to leave, then stopped. "And Blitzø, if you wish to come over on your own, that's fine. Just be mindful of our schedules and _please_ call ahead before you arrive."

Blitzø nodded dumbly as Harper rounded the corner to head back upstairs. Drek grumbled softly as he began to pick up toppled chairs. True to form, Blitzø opted to hover over him instead of going straight to the entertainment room.

"It's a good thing your boss showed up when he did. Else I'd have kicked your ass," he said with a smug grin.

Drek chose not to dignify that with a response. He only huffed and scooted further away from the other imp. Blitzø followed close behind.

"At the very least you could watch the threads," he continued, "This is my favorite coat! They don't make 'em like this anymore."

Finally, the valet stood bolt upright, his face twisted into a grimace. "That will be quite enough out of you," he snapped, "and if you _don't_ mind, please take a step or two back. You have a _very_ prominent erection, and I would prefer to keep it more than a foot away from my head while I clean up."

Blitzø tilted his head in confusion, then glanced down. Sure enough, his pants were tented obscenely outward by a proud, throbbing shaft of arousal.

"Huh! Well would you look at that!" he mused.

"I would prefer not to."

"Pff, quit being such a prude," retorted the taller imp, "Can you blame me? That adrenaline rush from you almost _knifing_ me could make anybody hard outta reflex." He paused, then tapped his foot as the valet worked. "Hey, would you mind if I go find a bathroom and take care of this?"

"I would _very much_ mind, Mr. Blitzø," growled Drek as he struggled to right the dining table by himself, "I will not have you wandering this house waving that around for the staff to see."

"Alright, fair enough," said Blitzø. A sly smile spread across his face. "You wanna touch it?"

With an almost feral snarl of frustration, Drek grabbed Blitzø by the tail. With a strength uncharacteristic of his size, he hauled the larger demon out of the dining room, down the hall, and into the entertainment room. He let go of his tail, then grabbed him by the shoulders to fling him onto the sofa centered in front of the large flatscreen TV that took up most of one wall.

"Ow!" cried Blitzø, "What did I just say about watching the threads, dick?"

Drek jabbed a finger into Blitzø's chest. "May I remind you, Mr. Blitzø," he said, "that my skills with a blade are second to none. Unless you wish for your genitals to be swiftly and painfully separated from the rest of you, you will _n_ _ever_ invite me to touch them again."

"Okay, okay! Sheesh!" Blitzø said, waving his hands defensively.

Drek continued, "Now you wait here on this couch for Mr. Harper. Be quiet, and so help me Satan if the cleaning staff find a single semen stain _anywhere_ in this room, I will bury you alive."

"Gotcha."

"Not. One. Single. Stain," Drek warned as he poked Blitzø with each word. Once he was satisfied the other imp had gotten the message, he straightened up and took his leave.

Blitzø sat with his arms and legs crossed, silently willing the hardon straining his fly to go away. He didn't know what upset him more: that he was being forced to waste a perfectly good erection, or that it was definitely _not_ sparked by the adrenaline rush of his fight with Drek. He was lucky Harper hadn't noticed just how intently Blitzø had been looking at him.

Fortunately, Blitzø's steadfast companion eventually got the hint and slackened. And not a moment too soon! Harper walked in just a moment later. He had traded his workout attire for a plain white t-shirt and a comfortable pair of lounge pants. "Good evening, Blitzø," he said cheerfully, "I am eager to see what movie you've brought for us. The cook will be around shortly with a bowl of popcorn for us."

Blitzø eyed the draconic demon. "Hehe yeah," he said nervously, "Though it's kinda weird seeing you out of a suit."

Harper chuckled, "I may dress formal when I have business to attend to, but when my schedule is clear for the rest of the day, it helps to put on something more comfortable."

 _Fucking goddammit Harper don't say it like that. You're gonna make me hard again!_ Blitzø thought as he suppressed the mental picture of Harper in even more revealing attire.

"Thanks for reminding me!" he said, before standing up to slip out of his coat and his shirt. Harper almost started to object until he saw that the imp was wearing a comfortable t-shirt and shorts underneath his normal wear.

Blitzø then turned his attention to his day pack. His nervousness vanished as he pulled out the box of his favorite movie and presented it to Harper.

Harper took the beat-up cardboard VHS sleeve from Blitzø and examined the title. "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron," he read aloud.

"Uh huh!" chirped Blitzø as he kicked his legs excitedly in his seat, "I've had this since I was a kid! The tape might be a little snowy, but I know you're gonna love it."

"I'm sure I will," replied Harper with a smile.

* * *

Harper found he was indeed enjoying the movie. It was spectacular to see how 2D animation had grown and evolved over a whole century, and Spirit showcased just how far it had come. Of course, it helped to be able to hear the movie too. This became difficult as Spirit was led away from the riverbank by humans, leaving his mare to die. As Spirit [was led onto a train car,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=futultLrWms) the somber music accompanying the scene was drowned out by the loud sobs of the imp beside him.

"F-fuck," sniffed Blitzø as he blew into yet another tissue from the extra-large box he'd brought with him, "I'm-I'm sorry, Harper, t-this is the part that always..." whatever he was going to say was lost to incoherent bawling.

The Overlord shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Blitzø continued ugly-crying. He felt like he should do something, but he'd never done well with people crying around him.

Harper glanced over to the imp, then back to the screen. Timidly he reached for Blitzø, then withdrew. Finally, he made a decision and curled his arm around the other, much smaller man's shoulders. "Come here," he said.

In an instant, Blitzø lunched and threw his arms around the dragon's midsection. His sobs were muffled as he buried his face into the other demon's broad chest.

Sighing, but with a small smile on his face, Harper settled in to let Blitzø lay against him and rubbed his back in slow circles. The imp gradually calmed down as the train ride on screen came to an end. By the time Blitzø was able to look up again, Harper's shirt had been dampened by tears and snot.

"Ah shit," he said, still sniffling, "I fucking did it again."

"It's perfectly alright," said Harper, "Emotions are a normal fact of life, and the afterlife too, as I have learned."

Blitzø spent the remainder of the movie clinging to Harper. Though he had calmed down, neither of them felt the need to pull away. For Blitzø, feeling all that muscle surrounding his wiry frame felt oddly comfortable, and he couldn't be bothered to get up. For Harper, he felt a strange warmth in his chest. One that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Occasionally, the Overlord glanced down at Blitzø, who watched the screen with rapt attention. But gradually, the imp's eyelids grew heavier, and his grasp on Harper weakened. The dragon demon shifted to put his legs up on the couch, with the imp resting in his lap.

As the credits rolled, Harper grabbed the remote to turn off and rewind the tape. He'd thought that Blitzø had fallen asleep, and was surprised to hear him speak.

"Didja like the movie?"

The Overlord chuckled and nodded. "It was an excellent film, I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Blitzø shifted against the dragon, though he kept his head firmly planted on his chest. "Hey Harper? Can I tell you what I like most about it?"

"I'm listening."

"All Spirit wanted was to run free, and he got it in the end. No reins, no saddle, no rider, nothing. He was a wild mustang, and he never stopped being one. Hell his Indian buddy even gave him his full name, 'Spirit-Who-Could-Not-Be-Broken.'"

Blitzø sighed, then glanced up at Harper. "That's fucking beautiful. And it's how I'd like to be." Then he laid his head back down.

Harper looked at the now dark TV screen. "It really is," he murmured. Then he looked back at Blitzø, "And it's what I think I like the most about you."

It didn't look like Blitzø heard him, however. His eyes had fluttered closed and his breathing had deepened. _Right then, I won't be leaving this couch tonight_ , thought Harper.

The Overlord looked up to see Drek standing in the doorway. He silently gestured to his valet, who curtly nodded, then turned down the lights and closed the door.

As Harper settled in, his thoughts bounced about his head in rapid succession. Thoughts about himself, I.M.P., Blitzø, and his relationship with the two all played out in his mind.

When the dragon demon finally let sleep claim him later that night, his mind still hadn't been made up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after eight and a half chapters, this story starts working for its Explicit rating! The sexual tension between these two is ramping up exponentially. Stay tuned for more~ ;)
> 
> On a more serious note, work is gonna be picking up for me again starting tomorrow. The pace of updates is likely to slow down as a result. No idea by how much yet.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Blitzø noticed upon waking up was just how warm and cozy he was. When he went to rub the sleep out of his eyes, he found he couldn't move.

The imp yawned and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the morning light filtering into the room. The reason he was so cozy became apparent.

Sometime during the night, Harper had pulled Blitzø into a spoon on the couch they'd shared the night before. His thick arms and solid torso gave off a lot of warmth. It was admittedly quite comfortable. Blitzø was tempted to let himself fall back asleep.

He was thwarted by the next thing he noticed: The dreaded morning wood. His cock jutted straight out underneath his shorts, creating an impossible to hide tent.

If he were alone, or maybe in Moxxie and Millie's bed again, Blitzø would just drop trow and rub one out like he always did in this situation. But an Overlord with close ties to his business was cuddled up with him. As nice as that felt, Blitzø got the feeling he wouldn't appreciate waking up to find his friend masturbating against him. On top of that, hazy memories floated back into focus of Drek warning him not to leave a single stain in the TV room.

 _Okay_ _Blitzø,_ he thought, _time to use everything you learned sneaking out of Stolas's bed. Just gotta slip out of Harper's arms, get to the nearest bathroom, and-_

"Good morning," mumbled the dragon he was pinned to.

"Ah shit," groaned Blitzø, "I mean, good morning! Sleep well?"

The draconic demon grunted and arched his back in a stretch, almost pushing Blitzø off the edge of the couch. "Not as well as I would've in my own bed, that's for sure," he said, "Was also up a bit later. Had some stuff to think about."

As Harper shifted behind him, Blitzø could feel something hot and hard pressing between his buttcheeks. "Hey Harper?" he said, "I think I fell asleep on your tail or something."

"Hmm? Couldn't be," said Harper, "My tail is right here." He waved it in front of the imp for emphasis.

"Ooooookay," Blitzø said, a note of concern creeping into his voice, "Then why is your hand wedged in my asscrack?"

"It's not..." Harper replied, his voice suggesting that realization was dawning in him as he let go of Blitzø to hold up both his hands. "Oh. Oh dear."

Quick as a flash, Blitzø sprang from the couch with a rather unmanly squeal. He tumbled into a somersault across the floor, plowed through a half-empty bowl of popcorn, and landed hard against the ornate entertainment center beneath Harper's massive flatscreen. The imp panted in a combination of exertion and alarm as Harper struggled upright and hastened to cross his legs.

"That...that was your dick?!" Blitzø exclaimed between breaths. "Christ on a stick, it felt bigger than my forearm!" He suddenly felt an eager throb between his legs, and he realized his boner was pointing directly at the Overlord through his shorts. To make matters worse, a dark wet spot had formed at the tip. His face felt like he'd stuck it in an oven as he drew up his legs and curled his tail protectively around himself.

At least Harper had the decency to be embarrassed as well. His already deep red face was darkened further by the intensity of his blush. "My apologies, Blitzø. Yes, that was what you think. As you can guess, a body as large as mine," he waved a hand over himself, "is going to be well-proportioned, in more ways than one. And when that body is practically ageless and filled with power? Well, certain things happen naturally."

Harper stood up, though he kept his tail around his waist for the time being. "I am going to shower and get dressed. There is a full bathroom off the guest bedroom upstairs you are welcome to use. Drek can show you the way. Would you like breakfast before you leave?"

Blitzø shook his head as he scooted over to grab his coat, shirt, and pants heaped on the floor. "That's real kind of you, but I really need to get going. Had lots of fun last night!" He got up and was careful to keep his back to Harper as he pulled his day clothes on over his t-shirt and shorts.

The imp packed up the VHS and everything else he'd brought with him, then turned around. He found that Harper was politely averting his eyes. "Hey," he said, resting a hand on the dragon's arm. "I wouldn't mind spending the night again sometime. We'll just have to be careful not to fall asleep on the couch again." Both men shared a chuckle.

As Blitzø moved past Harper, the dragon's bony, scorpion-like tail unfurled. It unconsciously caught the imp's tail on the way, and they curled around each other. This brief embrace lasted but a moment before they were pulled apart.

"Until next time, Blitzø," Harper called after him, "Send your employees my warmest regards."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Blitzø half-mumbled as he walked into the foyer. To his surprise, Drek was already standing by the door and ready for his departure.

"The car will be along in just a moment, Mr. Blitzø," the other imp said. If looks could kill, the glare he was giving Blitzø could probably be a threat to Lucifer himself.

Thankfully, Blitzø didn't have to wait too long with the unfriendly valet. As soon as the stately black sedan pulled up to the door, he was out in a flash and in the back seat.

Blitzø breathed a sigh of relief as the car pulled into the drive and away from the house. On the long drive back to I.M.P. headquarters, he glared down at his tented pants. His morning wood wasn't used to being ignored, and it was pestering him for relief. Better wait until he was back in his office. He didn't want to risk Drek's wrath getting jizz stains in one of Harper's company vehicles.

A stray thought popped into his head. It occurred to him that he usually was completely shameless about parading his boner around. He didn't care who saw it, and if somebody wanted to help him take care of it, all the better. Just last night he was inviting Drek to touch it. So why was he so shy around Harper?

Blitzø shook his head. _Probably because he's an all-powerful Overlord. A classy one at that. He wouldn't like it._ He pointedly ignored the hole in that logic. Stolas could fold him and Harper combined like a fucking lawn chair, and he'd lost track of how many times he regularly insulted and belittled the Prince of Hell to his face.

When he finally reached I.M.P.'s reception room, he had fifteen minutes before they opened for the day. Loona wasn't here yet, and knowing her she wouldn't be in for another hour. Perfect.

Blitzø breezed into his office and locked the door. He unbuttoned his pants before he'd even sat down behind his desk. His red, pulsing cock flopped free as he pulled down his shorts and underwear to let it out.

The imp took a moment to admire his aching rod. It'd been awhile since he'd been this hard. The deep blue vein pulsing on the shaft reminded him of the one that showed up on Moxxie's forehead whenever he was pissed at him. Ah, there was a good place to start. Blitzø spat in his hands and rubbed them together, then got to work.

As he languidly stroked along his length, he thought of Moxxie's cute little bubble butt. That nerd was so meticulous about maintaining modest dress, but those coattails only drew more attention to his ass. Blitzø grit his teeth as he imagined how tight Mox's hole would be around his dick.

That got him thinking about how the difference in size between him and Moxxie measured up to the one between him and Harper. He unconsciously picked up the pace as he wondered if his own hole would be as tight around Harper's girth. Then he thought back to that absolute _log_ wedged between his cheeks when he woke up. Could he ever hope to take something that big? Maybe he could. He'd feel so fucking full if it happened.

Blitzø's fantasy grew more elaborate as he recalled more from the morning. The scent of Harper's cologne from the night before had faded by that morning, and it was letting through just a hint of his heady, masculine scent by the time he'd woken up. The deep, rumbling purrs from the sleeping dragon made him imagine grunts of ecstasy as Harper pounded his little imp rear.

In what had to be a new personal record, Blitzø fell over the edge just minutes after he started. His back arched and he cried out. Three thin but forceful ribbons of cum briefly sparkled in the morning light as they arced over his desk to land on the floor in the middle of the room.

The imp sighed in relief, then checked the clock. Still plenty of time before M&M came in. Blitzø wiped himself off and tucked his member away. He even had time to wipe up the floor too before he unlocked his door. Well, at least the spots he could find. Fuck it, the building had a janitor.

When Millie and Moxxie punched in for the day, Blitzø was surprised to see Loona accompanying them as they filed into his office. "We need to talk," she said in a clipped tone. The two imps flanking her nodded in agreement.

* * *

"We need to talk, sir."

Harper looked up from his computer to see Drek standing at the door to his home office. He closed his Voxbook and set it aside. "Certainly," he said, "What needs to be discussed?"

Drek shuffled into the room and sat down at one of the chairs across from Harper. His efforts to keep eye contact were passable at best.

"Well?" asked Harper after a long silence.

Drek took a deep breath. "You've been seeing Mr. Blitzø on a fairly regular basis," he began. "The butler and just about everyone else in the household is speculating on just how close you and he have become. I was content to just think that you had become good friends. But after seeing both of you curled up together on the couch, I'm beginning to have my own doubts."

Harper folded his hands and rested his chin on his knuckles. "I see," he rumbled, "You question just how platonic our relationship is?"

The valet tensed, then silently nodded.

The dragon Overlord slowly got up. He appeared thoughtful. "Truth be told, Drek, I have been asking myself that same question. That night you left us in the entertainment room, I did not sleep well in the least. And this is the reason why."

He walked over to his fireplace and gazed into it, even though it was turned off. Drek stood up to stand beside him.

"I'm afraid for you, sir," Drek murmured. "I want you to be happy, and it's clear Blitzø has brought joy to your life. My own feelings about his character are irrelevant. What I am concerned about is his connection with Stolas."

The Overlord nodded solemnly. "And there lies the rub. I have already been working to subvert Stolas's control on I.M.P. Taking his lover from him would be an even greater blow." Harper turned and crouched down to eye level with his faithful servant. "It would be one thing if I was doing so to advance my business interests, but this is purely a personal pursuit. And every aspiring entrepreneur is warned against mixing business with pleasure."

Harper lowered his head while Drek tilted his. "So what will you do then, sir? You have feelings for Mr. Blitzø, right?" When Harper nodded he continued, "And you would like for him to be more than a friend?"

Suddenly, Harper's head snapped back up to lock eyes with Drek. "What would you do if you were in my position?"

Drek took a step back in alarm. "S-sir?"

"Think back to your own lovely wife. You've been together, what, thirty years now? If when you were first dating her you ran the risk of crossing someone more powerful than you, would you do it?"

The valet seemed to take offense to this. "Why of course!" he asserted, "I would stand up to Lucifer himself if it meant being able to see her again! She is of utmost importance to me."

Harper chuckled softly, then pulled the surprised imp into a soft hug. "Thank you, Drek," he said, "It is comforting to know that I have you to talk to when I need the courage."

He straightened back up and squared his shoulders. "Now, clear some time for me later this evening. I need to familiarize myself once again with the art of courtship. It is time that Blitzø and I make things official."

"O-of course, sir!" stammered Drek, "I will reschedule your five o'clock. Though I doubt Mr. Blitzø is fancy enough to require 'courtship' in the formal sense. I mean, given what he did last night-"

"What did he do?" Harper cut in, his head inclined.

Drek sighed. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. Let me know if you need anything."

Harper smiled, then moved to escort Drek out of his office. "I will. Now, to get back to my work." He paused, then turned back to the imp. "We are warned not to mix business with pleasure, but has that stopped me before?" he smirked playfully, then pushed the door closed.

* * *

"I have no clue what the fuck you losers are talking about!" Blitzø declared, before he flopped back into his seat. He and his most faithful employees were gathered in the conference room. Blitzø was seated with his arms crossed, while Millie, Moxxie, and Loona stood around him.

Moxxie pinched the bridge of his nose before trying again. "Okay, sir," he growled, "Let's go over it again, slowly this time." He thrust a claw at his boss. " _You_ have been spending almost every day for the past two months with Lord Harper, and you won't tell us why. He not only turns up at the office from time to time, you regularly visit his estate."

"Well no shit, Sherlock," Blitzø retorted, "Harper works from home. That's where his office is! And the bastard has such a full schedule, he can't come over here whenever he needs to meet with me."

"But that's just it, sir!" Moxxie continued, "What does he need to meet with you so regularly for that can't be resolved over the phone?"

"Not to mention how you act when you come back from Harper's place," Millie added. "You're always so cheerful and relaxed."

"Oh, so good communication at work is a bad thing now?" Blitzø snapped, "And when did Lucifer decree that it was illegal to have a good day for once in my miserable life???"

"Sir," Moxxie said as he put his hands up, "We really think that there might be something going on here that falls outside the bounds of an appropriate work relationship."

"Not that you'd know what that even looked like," Loona snarked, not even looking up from her phone. That earned her a glare from Moxxie.

"Okay, okay, soooo we may have kinda sorta become friends," Blitzø finally admitted, "There. Ya happy? Can we take our first client yet?"

Loona suddenly slammed her hands down on the table and growled, making the three imps recoil. "Bullshit," she snarled, "I know you're a dumbass, but even you don't disappear for a whole night without telling me where you are. I didn't know if you'd even be here when I showed up!"

Blitzø waved his hands placatingly. "N-now Loonie, that was an honest mistake. I'm safe and in one piece. Nothing bad happened. I was just over at Harper's-"

"Of course you were!" exclaimed Moxxie. "You're how old again? Grown adults do not have sleepovers!"

Millie turned to her husband with a confused expression. "We don't?" she asked.

"Not helping, Millie!" said Moxxie through clenched teeth.

"Besides, you think you assholes are alone when Harper comes and visits the office?" Loona continued. "I'm watching when you see him out every time. You guys play tailsies with each other more than these freaks do!" she waved over at Millie and Moxxie, who quickly and self-consciously untangled their tails.

Even so, Millie's expression brightened. "Awwwww, that's so cute! Now that Loona mentions it, there was that one time last week when Harper was visiting. Saw you both going down the hall, tails coiled the whole way. I didn't think much of it at the time, but I do it all the time with Mox. Should've been obvious."

Moxxie loudly cleared his throat and gestured once more to Blitzø. "Sir," he said, "far be it from me to judge who you choose to get intimate with, but a FUCKING OVERLORD? Who is enemies with the PRINCE OF HELL BACKING OUR BUSINESS?!!"

"Everybody shut up!" hollered Blitzø. "Shut up! Just shut up. Shut up." He didn't seem to notice that the room had gone quiet for several seconds. "Thank you. Now, I am telling you this is a load of crap. I don't 'fall in love' with people, alright? So what if me and my buddy Harper get our tails tangled up sometimes? So what if I spend lots of time over at his place? And who cares if most of that time is spent walking with him in his gardens or watching movies? That's what friends do, right? I admit to that much!"

His golden eyes darted to each of his employees with a pleading expression. "Okay sure, so he held me during that one scene in Spirit. You know the one, right? And yeah, we did fall asleep together on the couch, and...and..." His expression turned blank. "And I jerked off to him this morning." He tapped his claws on the table in front of him. "That could be a problem."

Loona scoffed loudly. "Okay first of all, ew," she snapped, "Second of all, it's real fucking obvious to everybody _but_ you that you're into Harper."

Millie squealed in delight. "You two are gonna be the prettiest pair!" she exclaimed, sparkles in her eyes. Beside her, Moxxie had his head buried in his hands.

"We're so fucked," groaned the neurotic imp, "We're absolutely, positively fucked if Stolas ever finds out."

Blitzø slammed his fists on the table. "Alright, here's the deal," he barked, "I'll admit it. I do have something of a teensy, itty-bitty little crush on our investor." He pinched his fingers together for emphasis as he glared to each of his employees in turn. "But not a word of this to anybody outside this office, got it? And especially not to Stolas. If the sole reason any of us can get to the Living World finds out I'm hanging out with - and interested in - his arch-nemesis, Moxxie's right (much as I hate to say that). We'll all be fucked, and _not_ in the fun way!"

He then checked his watch. "The extra demons Harper sent over to help with accounting and legal will be here any minute. Let's get back to work and not talk about this again if we can help it." With his usual flourish, he stood up and swept out of the room.

Millie elbowed Moxxie in the ribs. "Isn't it exciting, Mox? Our boss is in love with someone other than us for a change!"

Moxxie only cast a dismayed expression over to his wife. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd _really_ have preferred to have found him in bed with us again than this."

"That can be arranged!" called a voice from down the hall.

"SIR, I WAS _NOT_ TALKING TO YOU!" screamed Moxxie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for your patience as I got this one worked out. Like I said, work has gotten busier so it's gonna slow me down. I have seven additional chapters outlined, and I just need to flesh them out.
> 
> Also, hooray for the first sexually explicit scene of this fic! Hope y'all enjoyed. ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Blitzø hunched over the wheel of his van the whole way to Stolas's estate. He had the radio blasting as always, but he hardly paid attention to the music. It was that time of the month again, and Blitzø didn't even have it in him to crack a disgusting period joke.

He parked the van in the designated, out of the way spot near the back gate. Were he a bit more clever, he might have drawn some sort of symbolism from the fact he was expected to use the entrance normally reserved for the help. As it was, Blitzø hopped out of his van and strode through the gate.

Boxley, Stolas's faithful butler and steward of the household, was in his usual spot to receive him, as well as collect the grimoire. "Master Blitzø," hooted the geriatric owl demon, "You are just in time. His Highness has something special planned, given the holiday season."

Blitzø looked up as he pulled out the book and handed it over. "Oh fuck, that's right! Heckmas is coming up, isn't it? Gotta make a list of what I'm gonna get everybody." He mentally filed a note that there would be one extra demon he'd be shopping for this year.

"Very good," Boxley replied, "but His Highness is waiting. Come along now. I will take you to his chambers."

"I know the way, jackass," Blitzø muttered under his breath, though he followed after Stolas's butler all the same. Either Boxley didn't hear him, or chose to ignore the slight.

He felt like he should be more impressed with the lavish finery surrounding him as they cut through the dining room and headed for a service staircase up. The novelty had worn off fairly quickly, and he'd been doing this for a few years now. Sometimes the route to the bedroom would change to dodge some of the nosier servants, but by now Blitzø had had more than his fill of gaudy upper class shit.

That got him thinking about his visits to Harper's mansion. While certainly fancy and refined - Blitzø couldn't hope to afford half the furniture in that house if he worked for two centuries non-stop - the dragon chose to be more modest in his decor compared to Stolas. Instead of paintings of himself and his family, Harper had paintings of colorful landscapes and still life portraits of people both in Hell and in the Living World. The rooms were smaller too, and felt more like a home than this cavernous palace. No creepy-ass plants to deal with either.

Blitzø was shaken from his reverie when Boxley stopped him outside a carved wooden door he knew all too well. The owl rapped three times on the door. "Your Highness, Master Blitzø is here to see you."

"Send him in~" purred Stolas from inside. Boxley opened the door and stood aside. He took care not to look into the room.

Blitzø felt a tightness in his chest as he crossed the threshold. He would have jumped when the heavy door slammed behind him had he not been so used to it at this point.

The Prince's oversized bed was situated almost dead center in the room. The canopy and curtains flowed like aetherium. Brilliant constellations and galaxies swirled around them.

There on the bed was the Prince himself. Stolas was laying spread eagle across the mattress. His spindly arms and legs were bound up in what appeared to be a single red ribbon, which crisscrossed over his slender torso and around his waist. A length of it strategically passed over his groin to form a prominent, bulging pouch. Its contents were all too familiar to the imp, who just rolled his eyes.

"Merry Heckmas, Blitzy~" Stolas cooed.

"The fuck happened to you?" asked Blitzø, "You get in a fight with Satan's Little Helpers and lose?"

Stolas's laugh was a high, avian trill. "Ohh Blitzy, you never fail to amuse me. That is hardly the reason I am tied up at the moment. With the holiday season coming up, I thought perhaps we could spice things up a little."

He tilted his head way too far to one side and grinned much too wide for Blitzø's liking. "Well? Aren't you going to open your Heckmas present?" He lifted his freakishly narrow hips off the bed to waggle them at the imp. His long tailfeathers flicked invitingly between his bound legs.

Blitzø was already in the process of getting undressed. "Well golly fucking gosh!" he snarked as he unbuttoned his shirt and pants, then slid both of them off, "You really shouldn't have, Stolas. I haven't even gotten you your present yet."

"Ohh, don't worry about that, my dear~" Stolas said in a husky voice. His blazing red eyes locked on Blitzø as he stepped out of his boxers and climbed up onto the bed. "Because all I want for Heckmas is that slimy red cock using both my holes from dusk until dawn."

The imp snorted derisively as he stroked his rapidly hardening length to attention. "Y'know, I almost thought you were about to quote lyrics from that God awful song they blast on repeat down in the retail district this time of year."

Stolas scoffed, then laughed again. "Certainly not! It would be unbecoming of my station as Prince of Hell to stoop to such a level."

"Yeah well you could've fooled me," said Blitzø. "The lube in the usual spot?"

"Of course," cooed Stolas.

Blitzø did his best to ignore the creepy-ass giggle Stolas let out as he crawled over his tall, skinny body to get to the night stand. Sure enough, there was the bottle. Looked like a brand new one too. The imp crawled back down the bed and popped the cap open. Then, he took a sniff. "Peppermint? Really?"

"'Tis the season, my studly little imp," Stolas purred, earning him another eyeroll from Blitzø.

"Whatever," grunted Blitzø, "Let's just get this over with. That bitch isn't in is she?"

"Language, Blitzy!" Stolas warned, before continuing, "Stella is in Pentagram City hosting a charity auction, and is not due back until tomorrow afternoon."

Blitzø mumbled "Good," in Stolas's general direction as he worked on slathering lube on his shaft before moving on to "unwrapping" the other man. His sharp claws made short work of the ribbon between the owl demon's legs. Stolas's own cock and balls sprang free, and the former began to rapidly harden.

"Eager slut as always, I see," Blitzø said with a smirk, before he poured a dollop of the flavored lube on his fingers and pressed them to Stolas's tailhole. The Goetic Prince moaned lewdly and arched his back as the imp tended to his supple pucker. The lusty bird's uncut dick flexed and spat a wad of precum into the soft tuft of feathers on his chest.

The imp wasted no time in getting down to business. Stolas loved it quick and dirty anyways. Blitzø hoisted the owl demon's long, slender legs up onto his shoulders, and planted the tip of his cock against the tight ring buried within that downy soft but hopelessly scrawny ass. How Stolas managed to stay so tight was anybody's guess.

"Oooooh~ just like that, Blitzy," groaned the lustful Prince of Hell. His legs curled around Blitzø's back to pin him in place, while still allowing him room to thrust.

 _Fucking leggy bastard,_ Blitzø thought. Still, a lay was a lay, so he was going to make the best of this. As he had done many times before, he thrust forward and rammed his length home. The soft down under Stolas's tail lightly tickled at his balls as he slipped in right to the hilt.

Stolas gripped the sheets in his talons and shrilled in ecstasy. Blitzø cringed at the harsh sound, but knuckled under and kept going. Soon enough, he was pounding the Prince's ass with a lively rhythm.

"That's it, you sexy beast," Stolas snarled, "Take me. Fuck me like a common back-alley whore!"

 _And here we go_ , Blitzø groused to himself. In short order the owl demon was weaving an elaborate tapestry of the most vulgar obscenities known throughout all the Circles of Hell. Vile talk that would make even the most veteran of sex workers blush. What all of this had to do with Heckmas, Blitzø had no clue.

Something warm and wet spattered over the imp's chin. He looked down to see Stolas's cock waving back and forth in front of him with each of his thrusts. Though the owl's member had remained neglected throughout, that didn't seem to matter. Blitzø briefly considered stroking it, but decided to focus on getting himself off instead.

Perhaps it was karma, then, that Stolas gave him no warning as he fell over the edge. Blitzø was taken completely off-guard when the avian dick bouncing in front of him suddenly jerked, and thick streamers of cum erupted forth. The first jet smacked the poor imp straight in the face, the second tangled in his horns and ran down the back of his head, and the remaining three or four blasts landed on his cheeks and chest.

"Hoooo, hooo, hooo," Stolas panted as he came down from his orgasmic high. Then, he looked up at his much smaller partner. "Blitzy, why did you stop? There's plenty more where that came from~" He nodded down to his cock, which showed no sign of slackening.

Blitzø only glared for a moment, owl jizz now plastered over his face. He was nowhere near close, so he really didn't have an excuse.

"Tsk! Fine, I'll keep going. But I'm changing positions." The imp carefully pulled himself free of Stolas's tight hole, then unceremoniously grabbed him by the hips. Despite being almost twice as tall as Blitzø, the Prince of Hell hardly weighed anything. It took little effort to flip him over onto his knees and chest, even with his arms bound to his sides and thighs.

Stolas obligingly lifted his tail and fanned it out. His rump swayed enticingly, beckoning Blitzø to get back inside. "Oh, you know how I like it. Go on, stuff me like a roast turkey for the big Heckmas feast. Fill me nice and full with that slimmmpmhhmphh." His descent into another lewd tangent was interrupted as Blitzø pushed his head down into the pillows.

"Can it, bitch," he said, "Lemme focus so I can nut already." The imp gripped the Goetic owl's hips and lined his cock up with his pucker once more. Stolas howled in pleasure as Blitzø rammed his length home.

As Blitzø obligingly "stuffed" his royal benefactor, his mind began to wander. Sex with this skinny nymphomaniac was getting old. It felt good, of course, but what was he getting out of it besides being able to use the grimoire? The imp's thoughts shifted away from the owl he was currently balls deep in and back to a few nights ago at Harper's house.

There had been no sex at all. It was just two friends enjoying a movie together, then falling asleep in each other's arms. Blitzø had relished the feeling of that dragon's strong body surrounding him and filling him with residual warmth. He was filled with regret at how quickly he had excused himself over the shock of waking up with Harper's erection hotdogging him through their pajama bottoms. The imp shivered with delight. If only he'd coaxed Harper into getting out of those clothes, and letting him explore every inch of that powerful, handsome body...

He was brought back to reality by the now deafening cries of ecstasy coming from Stolas. Blitzø was almost soaked through with sweat, and he was panting like he'd run a marathon. His cock throbbed angrily inside of its avian confines. Holy _fuck_ had he gotten himself horny. Wait, what if...?

Blitzø let out a feral growl, and hunched over Stolas to pound him at a jackhammer pace. He grabbed a fistful of tail feathers and yanked upward. As he stood up and plunged down into the slutty owl demon ever harder and faster, Blitzø let his mind fill with all sorts of fantasies about Harper. What did he look like naked? What about his junk? The imp grit his teeth as he imagined the sights, sounds, and smells if he was banging Harper instead of this clingy privileged fuckboy. Blitzø wouldn't be on top, that's for sure. A big strong hunk like that wasn't likely to be bottom. When was the last time Blitzø caught instead of pitching? Way too long, and he wanted it - _needed_ it.

With one final thrust, Blitzø let out a loud gasp. His balls drew in close to the base of his dick as it twitched and throbbed. Two, three, four gouts of cum flooded Stolas's ass. The owl demon cooed and curled his toes in delight. The loud tapping sound beneath him suggested he'd just nutted again onto the sheets.

The two men remained coupled in silence for a few moment, save for their winded breathing. Blitzø's heart was pounding out of his chest, and not just from the exertion. Had he just gotten off fantasizing about another guy during sex???

He was too drained and shocked to pull away from Stolas's needy afterglow embrace like he usually did. Unlike Harper, Stolas wasn't able to bury him in warmth and dense muscle. Well, he supposed the floof was nice. Wait, what was that scraping sound? _Oh God, he's preening my horns_ , Blitzø thought with a grimace.

"Exquisite as always, my big-dicked Blitzy~" Stolas purred between loving pecks at the imp's head and horns, "Let us rest for a bit. Then we can go again!" It wasn't long before Stolas was running his freakishly long, slender tongue along Blitzø's face to lap up the seed coating his red and white cheeks. Truly, his original phone contact nickname "Creepy Mouth" was well-earned.

"Sure, sounds great," Blitzø said unenthusiastically, "Hey listen, is it okay if I take a nap?"

"Hmmhmm, I suppose you could," said Stolas, "but I was hoping we could talk for a bit."

That got Blitzø's attention. Usually the sexed-up birdbrain only wanted to cuddle and preen before the next round. "What about?" he asked as he eyed the owl warily.

"I just want to offer my congratulations!" Stolas explained. "It seems business is booming for I.M.P. Record profits, a steady supply of contracts. Why, I haven't had to send you work in well over a month! I've seen advertising for your services all over the Pride circle."

"Hehe, yeah!" chuckled Blitzø, with no small amount of relief, "Things are looking up for me and the fam. Course, you helped make it happen. Cause, y'know, the book."

Stolas stopped preening the imp and settled for putting his arms around him. "True," he said, "But this sudden growth has all been very recent, after a few years of stagnation. Something has changed in a big way."

Blitzø's blood ran cold as Stolas nuzzled the back of his neck. "What's changed, Blitzy?" he whispered, "What was the one missing piece that helped everything else fall into place?"

 _Oh fuck_ , thought Blitzø, _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Can't lie to him, he'll know I'm bullshitting. Dammit! Gonna have to wing this one and thread the needle_.

"Funny you should mention that," Blitzø said in an uncharacteristically meek voice, "You know how I've been trying to find some other investors for the company, right? Well I ended up landing a few! They were able to give me the push I needed to really get I.M.P. off the ground."

"Ohhhhh? And may I ask whoooooo else has taken an interest in my handsome little imp's business?" The way he drew that out was almost as creepy as that tongue of his. Blitzø chuckled nervously.

"Not sure I can just give out their names like that," he said, "Trade secrecy, attorney-client privilege, all that good stuff." His innocent grin quickly faltered under Stolas's skeptical gaze.

Before Stolas could press the matter further, there was a sudden, rapidfire knock at the door. "Your Highness!" called Boxley in a hushed voice, "Be ready. Stella has-"

"WHERE IS THAT FUCKING MANWHORE?" screeched a woman from elsewhere in the house.

Stolas shot up bolt upright, then began to fumble to untangle himself from the ribbon he was bound in. "Blast it all! Blitzø help me out of this, then hide in the usual place. She was supposed to be gone until tomorrow afternoon!"

Blitzø frowned, then helped to cut Stolas loose with the scissors that had been conveniently left on the nightstand by the lube. Without a word, he gathered up his clothes and let the owl demon herd him into the little chamber behind the false back of the wardrobe.

Stella blustered into the room a few minutes later, which had given Stolas just enough time to clean up and throw on a bathrobe. Blitzø tuned out the argument that ensued. He'd heard it all before. Stella would accuse Stolas of sleeping with an imp in their bed again. Stolas would fervently deny it, then subtly lure her away from the bedroom so that Boxley could come sneak him back out to his van.

This had to be at least the third or fourth time Stella cut things short (though he supposed he should be thankful for her interruption this time around). These monthly trysts were increasingly being interrupted by the hiding, the muffled yelling, and the departure from the estate without so much as a goodnight or a thank you. Then the day after tomorrow Stolas would come to drop the book off at the office. No wonder fucking this guy wasn't fun anymore.

The shouting had faded. Stella must have taken the bait. Now all Blitzø had to do was get dressed and wait for Boxley. As he struggled to pull up his pants in the cramped confines of the hiding spot, he could feel liquid trickling down his cheeks. But he'd wiped the cum off his face before he hid, right?

Oh wait, it wasn't jizz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, folks! The first full sex scene of this fic, and it's a Stolitz scene.
> 
> I really had to ponder whether to go with the popular fanon of Stolas having a cloaca. Ultimately, I decided that everybody's favorite horny Dad would have a dick in this story. Why? I just plain like peen. As for how big it is, I'll leave that up to your interpretation.
> 
> Lastly, I want to say that I can't take credit for citizens of Hell observing "Heckmas." I saw it used in someone else's fic. I want to say it was one by TalosLives, but I can't remember.


	12. Chapter 12

Harper paced back and forth in his office. An antique mirror he'd dug out of the attic now stood in one corner. He came to a stop in front of it, the latest of many stops, and faced his reflection.

"Once more, from the top," he said to himself, then cleared his throat. He shot his reflection the most charming smile he could muster and started again.

"Hello Blitzø!" he frowned at himself in the mirror, "No, too casual. Hmm, what about...Good day, Blitzø! Bah, now that's too formal." The Overlord had just returned to pacing when Drek poked his head into the room.

"Sir, are you _still_ practicing what you are going to say to him???" asked the imp.

The dragon demon sighed, shoulders slumped in embarrassment. "I'm afraid so, Drek. As I told you, I haven't formally courted anyone since I met my wife over 150 years ago." He held up a finger before the imp could respond, "and those men and women I have tried 'hooking up with,' do not count. The rules were completely different then."

Drek leaned against the door frame with a bemused expression. "Be that as it may, Mr. Harper, you are overthinking this. I won't tell you that it's easy, but it is simple enough. You could call or text him."

Harper shook his head. "No, that doesn't feel right. I'm painfully aware times have changed since I last dated, but for my own sake I must confess that I fancy him in person. That is why I intend to visit Blitzø at his office at 3 pm. I've reviewed his schedule, and he should be alone then. We will have all the privacy we need."

The imp considered this for a moment. "That could work. But my point still stands that you are overthinking how you are going to tell him. Meaning no disrespect, but Blitzø is crude, blunt, and unrefined. He would likely appreciate if you dispensed with idle pleasantries and got straight to the point."

The Overlord stroked his chin in thought. "You really think bluntness is the answer here? It goes against everything I've learned in business and through socialization."

"And that's precisely the problem," Drek interjected, "You lived over a century ago, and you normally only socialize with the elites. Blitzø is neither of these things. Think about the vulgar language he freely uses around you. Is an imp like that going to care about etiquette?"

With one final sigh, Harper pushed the mirror aside and walked over to the door. "Perhaps you are right. I _am_ overthinking this. But I don't want to make a fool of myself either. I am an Overlord, and while image is not as important to me as those prigs in the noble caste, I don't want to appear weak by bungling a request for a date with an imp, either."

His worrying was interrupted by a small hand gripping his wrist. Satisfied he had Harper's attention, Drek continued. "Sir, you only need to make sure you tell Blitzø three things." He let go of Harper's wrist to count them off on his claws. "First, tell him that you have feelings for him beyond that of friendship. Second, express your desire to take your relationship to the next level. Third, _if_ Blitzø accepts, extend that invitation to the outing you've been planning."

The dragon had crouched to eye level while his valet laid out what he needed to do. He nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right," he said, "I need to 'wing it,' so to speak." He shuffled the ones on his back. "No pun intended, of course."

Drek only chuckled and patted Harper's shoulder. "You'll do fine, sir. If you, in your own words, could get 'the most beautiful woman in the Living World' to marry you, I know you can get Blitzø to go on a date with you."

The Overlord smiled back at the imp. "Thank you, Drek. I'm well aware of your own feelings regarding Blitzø, and I appreciate you have my back regardless."

The valet nodded, then stepped back. Harper stood and straightened out his suit. "I suppose I should make sure the floral arrangement is in order before I leave," he stated, then walked out of the office to head downstairs.

Drek chuckled again, then shook his head as he followed the dragon demon out. "Of course the old fool prepared flowers," he muttered in amusement, "What am I going to do with him?"

* * *

Despite his valet's assurances, Harper worried on the whole drive over to I.M.P. Every few minutes he looked to the bouquet of carefully arranged flowers and tasteful ceramic vase clutched in the bony links of his tail. Harper quietly cursed the fact that he'd left his flower dictionary in his office. How else would he double check everything in there was appropriate?

For what must have been the hundredth time, he reached over to alter the arrangement. It had to convey everything he felt while remaining aesthetically appealing. Never mind that it would fly completely over Blitzø's head; this was important to _him_ , dammit! Besides, even if Blitzø didn't understand the meaning, an Overlord like Harper had to be at his best when courting a lady - or gentleman, in this case.

He had just enough time to run a comb through his gelled black hair one final time as his limo pulled into the parking lot. The draconic demon slipped out of the backseat, then hesitated at the front doors. The hesitation lasted only a moment, lest someone see him balk.

Harper's hesitation came back in full force as he approached the door leading into I.M.P.'s rented space. He stopped and stared at the crude signage on the door. It was a door he had passed through many times now. So why did his arm feel like it was made of lead every time he tried to reach for the handle?

He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and started to walk back toward the elevator. Realizing what he was doing, he turned again and returned to the door...only to start to walk away again.

 _You can do this, Harper_ , he thought, _You only need check in at the desk and wait for Blitzø to come out. Then ask him for a date._ He reached for the door handle again. _Open the door and walk inside. Ask to see Blitzø. Do it. Do it! What are you waiting for, you damn pathetic coward? Go inside!_

With a loud growl of frustration, Harper nearly wrenched the handle of the door loose as he burst through it. The hellhound behind the front desk yelped and dove for cover.

The Overlord took a moment to compose himself, then surveyed the room. "Miss Loona?" he called.

Loona cautiously peeked over her desk. "Holy shit, Mr. Harper," she breathed, "You almost gave me a fucking heart attack."

"I apologize for my, er, _enthusiastic_ entrance," Harper replied, "The door seems to have stuck."

The hellhound nodded as she gingerly slipped back in her seat. "Yeah I know what you mean. Fucking thing's warped. We've told the lameasses who run the building to fix it, but they don't give a shit." Over the past several weeks, Loona had been slipping back into her natural way of speaking around Harper. He took that to mean she was getting more comfortable around him. That was progress!

Now, on to the matter at hand. "Is your father available?" Harper regretted the phrasing when he saw the way Loona tensed at those words.

"Yeah, he's here," she replied, avoiding eye contact, "Think he's in the middle of something though. Can you wait a few minutes?"

Harper spread his hands in an exaggerated shrug. "I've cleared my afternoon to see him; I can certainly wait." Then, he stepped closer to the desk. For all the progress that had been made, the young hellhound still shrank back from the computer as he approached. That was when she noticed the bouquet clutched in his tail. Her red and white eyes widened.

"No way," she said, "Are those flowers for who I think?"

A quiet sigh of relief left Harper's lips. Anything to dispel the tension. "Ah, you've caught me red-handed, Miss Loona," he said, "Your fa-I mean, Blitzø and I have grown close these past few months. It felt appropriate that we make things official. Do you know what I mean?"

The shock drained from Loona's face, which became unreadable. "Uh huh," she flatly said, then went back to browsing the computer. Even so, her posture remained rigid, and the fur on her tail bristled. So much for friendly conversation while they waited.

Harper contented himself with visiting the eel tank while he passed the time. The eels didn't seem to pay him much mind, but they were fun to watch. He could tell there were more of them in the tank, as well as lots of new plants and even a big sunken castle for them to play in. The dragon wasn't surprised that at least some of the extra revenue I.M.P. was enjoying was being invested in the eels.

Minutes felt like hours to Harper. His tail swished impatiently (though he took care to keep a firm grasp on the flowers). Occasionally he would hear someone moving around inside Blitzø's office, with the occasional loud thud and a muffled "Shit!" Blitzø was probably trying to rearrange everything again, but Harper respected his privacy too much to investigate.

Just as Harper was about to reconsider his stance on privacy and go known on the imp's door, he heard a doorknob turn. "Ah, finally!" he said as he straightened up and turned around. But it wasn't Blitzø's door that had opened, but the front door. The Overlord froze as a lanky, well-dressed owl demon ducked past the threshold.

"Ah! Good afternoon, Loona!" chirped Stolas, "I trust you are well?"

"Uh, y-yeah," stammered Loona, who had gone just as rigid as Harper. "I take it you're here to see Blitzø?"

Stolas chuckled. "Indeed I am! Dear Blitzy hasn't answered any of my calls or texts, and I simply had to drop by to make sure he was okay." The Prince of Hell looked around the office. His gaze inevitably came to rest on the dragon demon by the eel tank. Harper had remained perfectly still at this point. Why? He didn't know. It wasn't like Stolas could only perceive movement.

The office grew deathly quiet as the two powerful rivals locked eyes. Harper squared his shoulders and took a few steps forward. "Prince Stolas," he simply said.

"Lord Harper," Stolas responded, "What an unexpected surprise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, apologies for the lateness of this update, as well as the shortness of this chapter. Work kicked my tail all of last week, and again today. Could barely muster the creative juices to write over the weekend.


	13. Chapter 13

Loona was used to having shit days at work. Most days she worked at I.M.P. would qualify when she had to put up with rude customers, boredom, and the non-stop bickering between her adoptive father and that goofy little fucknut Moxxie. Until today, the worst day she'd ever had on the job had been the day that Harper loomed over her desk and scolded her for being rude to him over the phone. Though she would never admit it, she still had nightmares about that encounter.

Today, however, looked to be a major contender for the title of Shittiest Day Ever. Not only was Harper here, but Stolas had just walked in. Both were here to see Blitzø, and from the looks of it neither were too pleased to see each other. The Hellhound didn't dare say a word. All she could do was cower behind her desk and wait for the inevitable explosion that would cut this entire floor of the building.

To her surprise and relief, neither man moved to attack the other. Stolas's demeanor had grown quiet and stern. Harper was no longer acting like a nervous, lovesick whelp. The dragon had straightened up to his full height, and his wings opened to cast a shadow Loona was disturbingly familiar with. Even from a distance, she could feel the air heat up. It was kind of weird seeing Harper get into his element with a Prince of Hell, when just seconds earlier he was getting his panties in a twist over talking to her Dad. Even so, all she could do was watch the confrontation unfold.

"An unexpected surprise indeed," Harper said, "and a pleasant one. I trust you and yours have been well?" Friendly though his words were, his upright posture and tensed shoulders were decidedly less so.

Stolas gestured grandly with one spindly arm. "Well enough, thank you," he said, "And I hope the same goes for you as well." His piercing red eyes flicked to the dragon's outstretched wings. "I see your wings have healed nicely since our last, ah, engagement."

Harper glanced down at the raised lines and knots of scar tissue decorating his wings. "I would hope so," he replied with a confident smirk, "It's been a few decades at least. The rest of me's healed up and better than ever too."

"Good! Very good," Stolas hummed. The two demons remained rooted in place. For almost a minute they stared each other down. The tension in the air could be felt just as easily as the growing heat in the room. Loona's grip on the edge of the desk tightened as she waited for one or the other to say something.

"Tell me," Stolas finally continued, "What business do you have with I.M.P.?"

Harper cocked his head. "I came to speak to Mr. Blitzø regarding some opportunities for expansion. Unfortunately, it would seem I just missed him."

"Expansion?" Stolas asked, all four of his eyes widening.

The dragon chuckled and took a few more steps. From where Loona was crouching, it looked like the two men were beginning to circle, though neither seemed to be getting ready to rush the other.

"Don't act so surprised, Your Highness," Harper said, "Surely you must have noticed I.M.P.'s success these past few months? I doubt you wouldn't suspect Mr. Blitzø found an additional investor for his operation."

Stolas's eyes narrowed once more. "I see," he curtly said, "So you are the mystery investor propelling things forward."

Harper smiled warmly and spread his arms. "Guilty as charged!" he said.

The owl demon paced a few steps as he took in this new development. His gaze never left Harper's as he moved. Oh yeah, they were definitely circling. "I'm a bit confused, and perhaps you can help me," he said, "Why does Lord Harper, the Builder Baron and monopolist over every construction firm and raw material interest in Imp City _and_ most of Pentagram City, want to invest in a small assassins' outfit?" Neither dragon nor Hellhound could miss the sharp note of bitterness in Stolas's voice as he described Harper's main line of work.

"It is nothing for you to worry about," Harper coolly replied. "These imps are of great use to me and my associates, and I am simply helping them reach their full potential." There was that smirk again. "Besides, in a free market economy, is it not the right of both me and Mr. Blitzø to engage in a mutually beneficial arrangement?"

There was a crackling sound in the air. It took a moment for Loona to realize just how tightly Stolas was clenching his fists, even as his face feigned disinterest. If Harper noticed, he didn't act like it. "I suppose you are right. There is no law governing who you can and cannot invest in," he admitted.

It was then that he noticed the bouquet of flowers clutched in Harper's tail. For all the heat the dragon was giving off, the flowers remained pristine. Now it was Stolas's turn to smile. "Oh my! What a lovely floral arrangement! You've always had excellent taste in flowers, Mr. Harper. A gift for your business partners, I presume?"

Harper seemed to swell with pride. "Why thank you, Your Highness! They were picked fresh from my garden. I'd been meaning to help freshen up the conference room, and a vase of flowers on a table can work wonders on employee morale."

"That it can, that it can," said Stolas as he folded his hands behind his back and strolled a little closer. His head tilted from one side to the other as he inspected the bouquet and vase. "Hmmmmm, that's strange," he mused, "If you intended to make this a centerpiece for the conference room, you certainly chose an odd message to send."

Harper ever so briefly fidgeted, but was swift to regain his composure. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Oh come now, good man. I know a romantic bouquet when I see one," Stolas said with a chuckle, "And this one has a lot to say. Let me see..." He reached out to point at each specimen in the arranged bundle. "Red tulips and white roses together. A confession of love and declaration of worthiness. I see a few daisies in there as well. Mixed with the roses, is that hope for a new beginning?"

Stolas studied the bouquet for a few moments more. Harper was doing his best to remain stoic, but even Loona could tell he was struggling. "And what's this I see under and around the flowers? Is that coriander? It seems to be telling the recipient they have hidden value."

"Alright, that's enough," Harper finally said. "You've caught me in the act. Yes, this is a romantic bouquet, and I stopped by I.M.P. to deliver it personally to the demon of my affections." 

To Loona's surprise and growing horror, the dragon turned on his heel and marched right up to her desk. He placed the vase down in front of her and offered her an innocent smile. The flash of flame in his eyes warned her to go along with it. "Miss Loona, you are by far the most beautiful Hellhound I have ever laid eyes upon. It would be an honor if we could get to know each other as more than business associates."

Loona nervously got up, and shot a glance over Harper's shoulder to Stolas. The owl demon had crossed his arms and was watching skeptically. "O-oh!" the Hellhound stammered. "Mr. Harper, that's really, really..." she scrambled for the right word, "...poggers. FUCK!" She slapped her hand across her face as a blush lit up her cheeks. _Nice going, genius._

Harper only laughed and reached across the desk to tousle Loona's hair. She growled and batted away his hand. "This is precisely why I'm so fond of you my dear," he said, "So spontaneous!"

"I see," Stolas flatly said. His arms were still folded, and he didn't look the least bit impressed. "Well, if Blitzø is out of the office, I suppose I will have to try his phone again, or drop by at a later date." He turned toward the door, then stopped. "Oh! I almost forgot."

With a wave of his hand, he conjured a thick, leather-bound tome seemingly from thin air. "I am finished using my grimoire for the month. Blitzø may have it back." He stepped around Harper to deliver the book to Loona. He shot a glance to the dragon as he continued, "After all, he cannot reach the Living World without it."

Loona snapped out of her embarrassment and accepted the grimoire from Stolas. "Thanks," she said, "I'll be sure to give this to Blitzø once he's back." Another white lie; he was right in the next room. But a little white lie wasn't going to incinerate her like a pissed-off draconic Overlord would.

"Very well!" Stolas said, before he turned with a flourish of his gaudy cape and strode back towards the exit. He stopped once more and turned around. His eyes seemed to bore right through the dragon. "And Harper," he said, "You would do well to remember that the best business is conducted over short dinners. Of course, I'm sure a man of your caliber hardly needs reminding."

"It is a lesson I've learned well over the past century and a half," Harper affirmed, his head high and chest out.

Stolas slowly nodded, and his gaze remained firm. "Good," he simply said, "In that case, I shall take my leave. Good day to both of you, and my sincerest congratulations." With that, the owl demon breezed through the door, and closed it perhaps a little too hard.

Once she was sure Stolas had gone, Loona released a breath that she didn't realize she was holding. The room was noticeably cooler, too. "You, uh, you think he bought it?" she asked.

Harper sighed and shook his head. "Not a chance. Prince Stolas is many things, but gullible is not one of them. Even if he had, I no doubt have his attention now. Things are going to be interesting moving forward."

A slow creak caused Harper and Loona to look behind them. A single yellow eye peaked out from the crack. "Is he gone?" Blitzø whispered.

A smile - genuine this time - easily came to Harper. "Yes, Blitzø. You can come out now."

"Oh thank fuck!" Blitzø said as he barged out into the lobby. "I always hate it when he drops by. Surprised it took you guys this long to run into each other." He rested his hand on the grimoire on Loona's desk. "Least he also gave the book back while he was at it."

Then the imp returned his attention to Harper. "Listen, uh, thanks for covering for me. And also for not burning the place down. Thought you and Stolas were gonna start kicking each other's asses."

Harper chuckled waved him off. "Perish the thought! His Highness and I know better than to start a vulgar brawl in someone else's workplace, as tempting though it might have been."

Blitzø laughed nervously, then looked over at the bouquet of flowers. "So, uh, you serious about dating Loonie? Because we're gonna have to have a man to man talk if you want to get anywhere near my daughter!"

The Overlord only laughed harder, then reached out to bop the imp on the nose with the tip of his finger. "Oh Blitzø, you never fail to amuse me. These flowers aren't for her." He picked the vase up in his tail again and moved it over to the imp. "These are for you!"

The imp stared wide-eyed at Harper. Occasionally his stare would switch to the flowers in front of him. He gingerly accepted the vase, and a few moments later his face lit up as it finally sank in. "Thanks!" he exclaimed, "You really shouldn't have! I mean, I didn't even get you anything. But I can get back to you on that! You like spiders, right?"

Harper put his hands up to stop Blitzø. "No spiders will be necessary, though I appreciate the offer. What I would like instead is for you to accompany me on a trip out to the countryside next Saturday. I have something special planned, just for you and me. We've done so much together as friends, and, well..." he shuffled nervously, "I would be honored if we could be more than that."

Loona rolled her eyes at the silence that followed. She could practically hear the wheels in Blitzø's head turning. "He's asking you on a date, dumbass," she finally said.

Blitzø jumped and looked between the Hellhound and the Overlord. "Wait, really? That's what this is all about. You want to go on a, a, a date with me?" He pointed to himself for emphasis.

Harper nodded, a hopeful grin on his face. "Precisely," he rumbled.

"Um, wow!" Blitzø murmured, "That...that sounds nice actually. Sure, we can give it a shot. We taking my van or your limo?"

"I will come pick you up at eleven," Harper said.

"Okay cool. Thanks Harper! I'll see you next Saturday."

Harper offered a full, toothy grin. His soft rumbles melted away into purrs. Loona huffed. It made her want to gag.

"I will see you then! For now, I shall let you get back to work." As he turned to leave, his tail curled to catch Blitzø's. They intertwined just as natural as could be before slipping apart. Blitzø held on tight to the vase of flowers as he watched the dragon duck out of the front door.

"Oh. My. God," Blitzø breathed, "OH MY GOD. Loonie did you see that??? I got a date with Harper!" he hopped up onto the desk and hugged the vase to his chest, legs kicking excitedly. "Can't believe he's got a crush on me too!" He stopped, then grinned. "Of course, who doesn't want a piece of this hot stuff?" he asked as he preened.

"Uh huh, that's cool," Loona droned. She had gone back to browsing on the computer with a scowl on her face, and she was pointedly not looking at the imp. She knew what this meant. He'd go off with Harper, and she'd come home to an empty apartment. Again.

The Hellhound barely noticed Millie and Moxxie creep out from their hiding place in the break room. She stewed and seethed even as Millie gushed and Moxxie worried over the news of Blitzø's date. None of it affected her. She didn't care. None of it mattered.

So why was she so upset?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started experimenting with writing from a single character's perspective each chapter. This time I picked Loona. Any feedback to this approach is much appreciated!


End file.
